


A Place To Belong

by jojo_rambles



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assassination, Assassins, Awesome Galadriel, BAMF Bilbo Baggins, BAMF Women, Bofur is a madman, Brotherhood, Canon-Typical Violence, Close call, Distrust, Dwarves, Dysfunctional Family, Elves, F/M, Family, Family Bonding, Father-Daughter Relationship, Flashbacks, Fortune Telling, Hobbits, Hurt/Comfort, Immortality, Kili/Oc - Freeform, Mutual Pining, Near Death Experiences, Nightmares, No Beta, Oblivious Thorin, Old Friends, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Prophecy, Rivendell | Imladris, Secret Identity, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Some Humor, Tags Contain Spoilers, Thorin's A+ Parenting, Trolls, Wizards
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:13:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 55,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25116694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojo_rambles/pseuds/jojo_rambles
Summary: Braerka, an andventurous girl, who survived the wrath of Smaug and was adopted by Thorin Oakenshield. Now almost two centuries later, as trained Assassin, and somehow still young; she has been tasked with ending the Dwarf Prince's life. As she gets tangled in their quest to reclaim home, Braerka uncovers age-old mysteries turning her world upside down.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	1. Prologue

Alone in the farthest corner of a dimly lit tavern, with their still hood up, the damp material barely enough to hide the loosely braided auburn locks contained beneath, sat a young woman. Despite sitting nearest the fire, the ends of hair that stuck out were still dripping wet, straying in various directions and none of them where she wanted them. Her coat was drenched, drying slowly in the warmth, and age old mud that had worked its way into the crevices of her worn boots, softened by the rainfall, was beginning to crack as it dried up.

In silence, she sat sipping at her drink every now and then, passing the time by watching the drunkards and, of course, more civil patrons of the establishment with shaded eyes. They argued and stammered over each other; the worst thing on their mind at that moment was not if the rain would let up so they’d get home and dry by the night's end; but if they still had enough coin left in their pockets for a few more drinks. For the most part they were peaceful and left her alone, the few that were fool enough to try and strike up a conversation with her were quickly dissuaded by the small armoury she kept by her side, the dulled metal accents on her bow were enough to strike fear even in the most inebriated of men, the add exclamation from the refined steel of her sword was the extra insurance that kept them away. She preferred to be left alone, her mind wandering from the present to the folds of the letter she flicked through her fingers; her eyes finding themselves tracing over words inked there over and over despite the turmoil it brought her. She considered tossing the pages to the fire, perhaps then her worries would leave her, but she knew all too well that was not how the world worked.

She slouched forward and once more pondered the people, their tankards clashing together, scuffing the hardwood tables, and their chatter filling the room echoing from one end to the other. Despite how at ease they all may have seemed, there were hints and glimmers of those little worries they were here to forget. Despite the difficulties they faced, she envied them in a way; they likely had a home, family, a place to call their own, a place to belong. For her such things were distant and long lost, she’d long since given up her foolish hopes of ever possessing the one thing she’d managed to lose more than once.

The fire suddenly popped and cracked loudly, sending a few large sparks astray. Several patrons wowed at the sight before continuing their evening. She found herself transfixed by the flames and her mind wandering to memories she had long believed buried beneath a lifetime of running.

~\/*\/~

Fire blazed, bright and crimson in every inch of her vision, the searing heat rising and licking as close as it could get to her skin. She couldn’t help but scream out for help, but no one could hear her over the chaotic inferno raining down from above. Save for the wretched howls of the newly arrived enemy, and loud booming crashes that echoed for what seemed an eternity as buildings, once homes and places of work toppled like dominoes, there was only the constant beat of the wind, flames incessantly reaching, and the terrorized screams as the people ran for their lives.

The small, thriving city that was once Dale, was roaring ablaze. Its residents either lay dead in the streets, nothing left but smouldering corpses, or were fleeing into the surrounding hills. Among the frenzied crowds, a young girl, no older than 10, ran for her life through the throngs of bodies, her clothes charred black with soot and her damp eyes set with a determination beyond her years.

In spite of the chaos, she kept running, looking out for her father, whom she feared was still in their modest, burning home. The last time she'd seen him he'd handed her a hastily packed satchel of food. He'd handed it to her and told her run, ' _ don't stop until you're safe’. _ she’d been confused, terrified as the beast shrieked above, but had agreed nonetheless. He’d rested a loving hand on her head just as the building began to creak and sway, oak snapping under duress from the heat. He ordered her to run and so she did. She ran out the open door and bolted into the streets, just as the walls and roof gave way. She didn’t look back, her father's voice faint, urging her to continue calling out, so she didn't stop, didn't spare a backwards glance and kept running. She'd learned well from a young age that obedience was key to survival in their world and even at 10 she was very good at following orders.   
  


Sprinting as fast as her short young legs could carry her she dodged under toppled carts and over fallen neighbors burning any thoughts to stop in the fires she passed and the persistent help of her father's words still ringing loudly in her head,  _ "Don't stop running! You hear me?!", _ it was louder than the bells, louder than anything else,  _ "You stop and you're dead!" _ The last part had scared her most and she didn't stop, not for anything or anyone. Not until after a while she felt an urge tug at her and for the first time she took in the scene around her.

  
The wind rushed around her, in sync with the incessant wing beat of the beast above. Fountains of black smoke and tongues of fire swamped the once peaceful streets. The guards had tried their best to fend off the invincible threat but to no avail, they were no match for the fearsome fire-drake. The mighty beast circled the feeble mess of flaming buildings once more before settling down some distance away, Dale had merely been an obstacle in its way, a pebble on the path and had been swiftly removed. This creature’s true goal was not the destruction of the once beautiful city, but the vast mountains of gold that lay deep within the halls of the great Dwarf Kingdom that lay on Dale's doorstep... Erebor.

Seeing her home in this state, a sudden powerful sensation took over and before she knew it she was running again. Making her way back into the city.   
  
She ran, and as she ran she ducked and dived and rolled her way to safety, all the while crying out for survivors, she had learned this from a story her father had told her,  _ 'great heroes never just save themselves' _ . The conflicting messages he left her with, melding into one. She screamed at the top of her lungs. No answers came. So she kept running.

Time became secondary and immeasurable as she kept up her pace. Somehow still unscathed, she reached and passed through what remained of the north gate into the city, barely missing some falling masonry as it crumbled under the intensity of the remaining fire’s heat.   
  
Breathless but somehow still finding the strength to move, she approached a few scattered crowds of people in the flat plains outside the walls, a barely safe haven between the fresh pyre of Dale and the collapsing gates of Erebor. So few had escaped. She scanned their faces looking for a familiar one that could sooth her racing heart, and calm her electrified nerves. No such face was among those in the small panicked crowds moving away from the ruined metropoli. She quickened her pace and sprinted onwards towards other citizens who were taking refuge from the flames, moving further into the wide expanses beyond the city of Dale.   
  
She slowed to a stop, and breathed deeply and heavily, she was beginning to lose hope, dark thoughts crept into the recesses of her mind, ' _ maybe he's dead, maybe he got stuck in there and is screaming for you... begging for help! _ ' all these and a million other thoughts raced through her brain. All she wanted was to see her father again, he had to have made it out. 

Sharply, she turned to take in what was left of the place she had called 'home' her entire life. So many memories, both good and bad, this was where she had been brought into the world, this is where she had lost her mother to sickness, this is where she had been raised and schooled and now... it was gone, a pile of rubble heaped in a soon to be forgotten landscape. She had lost so much this day; she didn't want to lose her father too.   
  
Inhaling deeply she prepared for the long run back into the city, she wanted to save him, she had to, he was all she had left in the world. Then she was off going as quickly as her short legs would let her. She sprinted past the people and stopped when she heard a familiar voice call her name through the muffled, angered babble of the remaining people of Dale. She skidded and looked around, she heard but she could not see who it was.

"Come this way, over here" she heard, she followed the voice to find Marsha, her nanny and tutor.   
  
Happy to see a familiar face she buried herself into the middle-aged woman and breathed in, the woman smelt of ash and brimstone, not what the girl had expected, she recoiled in disgust at the severity of the stench although there was no escaping it, it was all around her.   
  
"Thank-goodness you're alive!" exclaimed Marsha, evidently relieved. She stroked the young girl's ashen hair revealing some of its true auburn tones. "Where is your father?!" the woman asked, looking back from where she'd come.   
  
Staring up hopelessly at Marsha, who was several feet taller, the girl gave no answer. "Tell me! Please!" Marsha cried out, shaking the little girl, when she had failed to answer. Instead she pointed to Dale, to the burning wreck and Marsha’s face became darker and grim, her grip on her shoulders waning. That’s when she knew there was no way he was still alive and that she was now truly alone.

There was a sudden loud bang and the screeching of metal. Marsha looked up; the child followed the woman's eyes to the onslaught taking place at the front gates of Erebor.   
  
The great beast had torn through the mighty gates, all but tearing them to shreds, as she looked over she just caught a glimpse of the dragon's tail, as the fiery red calamity crashed its way into the Dwarven stronghold. Not long later, looking down the path from the entrance she saw a small group of men, unarmed and battered from the initial attack, marching their way towards the lonely mountain to help the fleeing dwarves.   
  
The eager youth started forward but was roughly tugged back by Marsha. "No, let me go! I want to help them!" she pleaded, squirming under the nanny's iron grip. Her only desire to help others where she’d failed to help her father. Dwarves came pouring out of what was left of the front gate, some were even sprinting, those lucky enough to survive spread out amongst the men of Dale seeking refuge from the terror within their once great paradise. The girl tensed slightly as she saw some of them were severely injured as they came out, some of the younger Dwarves she called her friends, but were any of them still alive? She didn't know but she did know that she wasn't dead yet, and wouldn’t die not today, and she would do all in her power to help.   
  
Everything slowed, as people realised the worst was over, some lay down on the grassy slopes. Dwarves continued to come through the doors, though now their numbers were dwindling, fewer and fewer exited the once great bastion. Marsha loosened her grip on her wrist, allowing her to race forward down the hill. 

As she approached the main entrance of Erebor, ready to help anyone, she was lifted by the collar and carried back in the direction of Dale by a strong, agonised looking dwarf, with long black flowing hair down beyond his shoulders. She saw their King, Thror, nearby limping down the pathway; he nodded to the other Dwarf who had lifted her, as they walked down the pathway and sped onwards into the crowd.   
  
The dwarf carrying her spun around on hearing a deep rumble in the distance, from beyond the Western Hills. It was the Elves, their King Thranduil and only a fraction of his legendary army approaching from a high cliff. The Dwarf stopped a moment and shouted to them upon the hill, "Help! Finally! Hey!!" The young girl clung to the ends of his tunic, taking everything in, the Elven King, just a blip in the distance, and Dwarf seemed to be locked in a telepathic battle, neither spoke but when Thranduil turned himself and his army away, and that was that. The battle for Erebor was truly lost. The Dwarf exhaled angrily and urged the young human girl onwards towards the crowds of men and dwarves, both groups now homeless came together in the open plains. A small number of dwarves had survived and even fewer of men.   
  


It was chaos. She trembled, still clinging to him, the adrenaline of the moment leaving her feeling empty and confused.

  
The Dwarf leading her looked around in a state of disarray, nobody knew what to do and he was looking for someone, anyone, who had any authority at all. The crowds were slowly beginning to disperse, people who had lain on the grass got up and moved with them, the Dwarves followed suit.   
  
An older, wiser looking dwarf with a long greying beard approached him. "Balin" said the younger, raven-haired Dwarf, "What's going on?" They looked confused, she hoped just as confused as she was. _ 'Where is everyone going?'  _ she thought, tightening her grip.   
  
"The only thing we can do... is move on." answered the older, defeat clear in his voice.   
  
The younger Dwarf was furious at this. "NO! We can fight!" he retorted, she looked up seeing something sparkle in his eyes, awe-inspiring and burning, a soft flame compared to what she’d already witnessed.   
  
"That will only get more of us killed, Thorin, it is not wise. You have seen first-hand the extent of Smaug's strength, a small battalion of dwarves won't do much against him! I doubt an army could." stated Balin, matter-of-factly. The small glimmer that had sparkled in Thorin's eyes faded but didn’t completely extinguish.   
  
He looked down at the small human child beside him. He turned to her and kneeled down to her level. He embraced her tightly as if he would never let her go and he stroked her cheeks, wiping away some the tears, dirt and ash smeared across her soft skin. He was trying to reassure and calm her; he could sense that she was feeling anxious and worried.   
  
"Tell me" he said gently, in his smooth, commanding tones, "what is your name?" The young girl was shy at first, not wanting to tell this stranger who she was, but he wasn't really a stranger, she had seen him about before and now she knew his name, the least she could do was tell him hers.   
  
"It's alright little one," Balin reassured her, a trying smile on his face, "we don't bite."   
  
He grinned at her timid smirk, his humour relaxed her a bit, and she breathed a little lighter and said, "Braerka, Braerka Arkensan."   
  
"Braerka Arkensan", Thorin repeated, placing a hand on her shoulder, "That's a good, strong name, never fail it, and stay true to it always." She was confused by his words, furrowing her brows. ‘Fail it', how could she fail a name? In time she would come to understand but at that moment the meaning eluded her.   
  
"Where is your family?" he asked firmly, his tone more serious. Braerka glanced at the smouldering remains of Dale, her heart sank, she hadn't been able to get back to her father, there was really no chance he was still alive now. Her eyes dropped to the ground as she tried to suppress the tears she felt swelling up in them.   
  
Thorin sighed deeply and looked to Balin; he simply nodded to Thorin and started to walk with the rest of the crowds. Thorin looked to Braerka; he stood up straight, cleared his throat, gave her a pat on the head and followed Balin. Braerka looked up after him, was he just going to leave her?   
  
She wasn’t having it. Mustering her remaining strength, she sprinted up to his side and took hold of his shirt yet again. He looked down at her and half smiled, though the sorrow in his eyes betrayed the happiness, somehow she knew he’d wanted her to stay close. 

"Seems I'm stuck with you!" he chuckled, lifting her into his arms and holding tight. It was almost as if he was afraid to lose her too.

  
  
~\/*\/~

  
  
The memory dimmed and faded as the woman came back to reality in the present. Back then, on that very day decades ago, everything had changed for her, and not necessarily for the better. Those events and many thereafter, had forged her into who she was today, tenacious, ruthless, full of mystery and doused hope. She had learned to keep to herself. She had to be mature from an early age, she was used to constant change and understood the world and the people in it, better than most, and more often than not, it wasn't a nice place.   
  
She had once been that little girl, innocent and afraid, a burning urge to help in her heart. She had witnessed the Wrath of Smaug, survived it and lost everything she'd held dear in the process. But she wasn't that little scared child anymore; she was a fully grown woman, an Assassin by trade. She had survived for almost two centuries, and she would continue to do so for as long as fate would allow.   
  
Her attention twitched in the direction of some rough-looking men, they had just said her name or more likely something very like it, her heart raced, but she breathed deeply and calmed herself. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, it wouldn’t be the last.

She gulped down the rest of her drink and stood, gathering her effects. Stuffing the crudely folded letter away first in her breast pocket. She slipped her travel pack over her shoulder, lifted her bow and knotted her sheathed blade to her belt. She made for the exit, as she did the group of men also stood up and followed,  _ 'how am I going to play this? _ ' she thought,  _ ‘damsel in distress, or kick their ass myself…?’ _ She smirked under her hood at the thought.   
  
The biggest and roughest of the men menacingly came up to her, stopping her advance. She was small next to him as she was next to most people, she was barely pushing 5 foot and that was small for a human these days.Silently cursing, She kept her eyes hidden behind the hood and eyed the exit, a plan coming together.   
  
"Well, well..." he spat at her, less than gently pulling back her hood, "what do we 'ave 'ere?! A woman... and a woman alone!" he turned to his group, "This little lady is one of a kind my friends! You're too young to be left alone in a place like this! Your man skip out, leave you with his luggage? I think we can be of assistance." he winked at her as he said the last sentence trying to win her heart and failing miserably. She was used to it by now; she'd been around long enough to have had more than her fair share of men like this approach her.   
  
"You up for some fun, honey?!" one beside him said, licking his lips and chuckling. The others joined him in his laughter. She looked up to the barkeeper, who she knew well. He shook his head, his concerned and worried look not for her but his bar. She smiled apologetically, and he grimaced, receding behind the bar knowing exactly what was about to happen.   
  
All eyes in the tavern were now aimed at the spectacle in the centre of the room, everything was silent. She bowed her head, feigning the damsel that little bit longer.   
  
"Cat got your tongue?" he sniped at her. "Maybe she's a mute!" suggested another from behind. The rest roared, and heckled, she was surrounded by five burly half-drunk men now, things were getting tense, an unseen coil of energy building up. She had to act, and soon. She stepped forward, trying to avoid a confrontation but they didn't make it easy, matching her step for step.   
  
"Where d'ya think you're goin' sweetheart?!" the alleged ringleader spoke. He walked up to her and grabbed her hips, that was it she'd had enough. She waited a few more seconds, dropping her bow and bag to the floor as he caressed her curves, letting him think he'd won her over.   
  
The other men got rowdy, he shut them up with a quick, "Yous can 'ave her when I'm done!" he leaned in to kiss her with his greasy, alcohol stained lips, his eyes were shut and that's when she struck.   
  
With his arms loosely placed on her shoulders he had nothing to defend his pride with. She wrapped her arms lovingly over his shoulders and brought her knee up, with all her strength, into his crotch. He dropped in agony. The rest of his troop we're momentarily stunned but were quick to pounce on her, ready to take her on, she dodged their badly timed punches and blocked their pitiful kicks.   
  
She swung her left fist through the air, it collided with one of the men's faces, and his body flew backwards and slid over the top of the bar crashing into the glass bottles stored below. Another swung a knife in her direction, she grabbed his wrist and pulled hard and twisted until he lost his grip on the blade. She spun, still holding him, pulling his body close to her and elbowed him in the throat as she did; he also dropped, gasping for air and clutching his throat.   
  
Only two left now, they stood there shaking nervously in front of her, they were afraid. She stood opposite them ready for anything. They nodded at each other and then both came at her at once. The smaller of the two swung his arms low; the other grabbed a nearby empty chair and raised it high above his head. She sidestepped the small man; he tripped forward, his fists meeting only air. Then she laid a powerful kick into the stomach of the other man, he doubled over in pain clutching his sides, consequently allowing the heavy chair to fall on his smaller ally, who was still recovering, neither of them would be getting up any time soon.   
  
She lifted her bow, and slung her bag over her shoulder again. Seeing the barkeeper, she reached into her pocket for a few coins and left them on the counter in front of the owner, "For the chair" she stated plainly. He nodded, speechless. She turned to leave, paused and turned back, adding another coin to the pile. She walked towards the exit, the man she had kneed in the crotch was clambering to get up as she passed him. He lunged at her from behind letting out a battle cry of sorts.   
  
With lightning fast reflexes she grabbed a nearby bottle of ale from the table beside her. She swung around letting it connect with his head, it smashed against him, sending glass and ale everywhere, and him back to the floor.   
  
He fell to his knees and leaned forward resting against her legs, quickly losing consciousness, "Who the 'ell are ya?!" he gasped, she kicked him backwards and he finally dropped into a heap on the floor, as he did she said, "My name is Braerka Arkensan, and you better remember it!" She announced it to the whole tavern as a message... and a warning. She tossed yet another coin at the barkeeper, to make up for the wasted ale, nodding by way of farwell, and with that she left.   
  
The doors of the tavern swung shut behind her, those inside sat gawking at the pile of unconscious men, amazed by her actions. The Barkeep went back to cleaning the counter like nothing had happened. Each had the name  _ 'Arkensan'  _ burning into their minds. They were soon drowning themselves in ale again and mumbling amongst themselves about the night's events. No-one was forgetting that show in a hurry, especially those men lying on the floor.   
  


  
  
  
  



	2. Old Acquaintances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Braerka encounters a Company of Dwarves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for minor descriptions of gore in relation to hunting.

The flickering of the harsh light of the mid-day sun, as a flock of summer birds flew by, forced her tired eyes open, squinting at the light that greeted her. Braerka lay half asleep of the strong branches of an old oak, waking from a short nap. She had taken well to her life in the wilds of Middle-Earth, adapting seamlessly to all environments, and loved especially to be among the trees of the forests. The elves of Lothlorien and The Greenwood had taken to calling _her 'The Shepherd of the Forests'_ , as she spent so much of her time in them. It was a title, like all the others she’d accumulated, that she refused to acknowledge.

She lay there with the vastness of the Ettenmoors behind her, a light breeze was billowing past her, she messed with the crystal at the end of the chain around her neck, rolling the ethereal blue gem between her fingers, as she remembered her brawl with those men in the tavern the night before. She smiled at the memory. She had found out the man leading the group went by the name of Karson and was known for his forward and unforgiving nature; he was also happened to be leader of a notorious group of bandits called The Black Eyes.

Their name came from the masks they wore on raids, jet black with no holes even for their eyes, it was said to be unnerving to look at; but mostly it left her wondering how on earth they got anything done. Their most disreputable member was a man named, _'Dead Shot';_ a crack-shot with a bow, he always aimed for the head. He never missed. She could only assume it was because of his skill that they were well-known throughout Middle-Earth.

 _"You had better watch yourself lass, they'll be coming after you now!"_ The old drunk outside the tavern had told her. Braerka had laughed silently to herself on hearing this, she wasn't worried. Karson could barely stand after his brief encounter with her, if the rest were as _'well-trained'_ as him, they'd be no problem, and while Dead-Shot would be concerning to the average traveller, she was something else entirely. If the 'Blacks Eyes' were smart, they’d ask around about the girl called Braerka Arkensan, and they would do best to avoid her altogether.

Her mind wandered as she idled away her time in the trees, from that to the task at hand. Not two moons ago, had she been handed a new contract by the Assassin leader in Bree, Kemball; a short unassuming ancient man, who lived only to serve the Assassin Order. She was not looking forward to completing her assigned task, when she had read the name of her target, her heart had dropped, and all had seemed to stop around her. Her target was none-other than, Thorin Oakenshield.

~\/*\/~

"I will not kill him Kemball, not without good reason!" she had told him.

"You know the rules. You must, otherwise your _own_ life is forfeit!" he had warned her, pushing the contract into her hands. "The words of our Canon state that we must complete all contracts given to us."

"Then give it to someone else!" she retorted, throwing the contract back in his face, it fell to the ground.

"It has to be you…" Kemball shouted to her as she stormed away. She stopped, turned and regarded him with sharp eyes as he bent over to retrieve the contract, "…you are the desired Assassin for this task, by request. Only you can take his life."

She had looked at him then, with livid discerning eyes and disbelief written over her face. "Who? Who made the request?"

He did not say, he only handed her the parchment, she scanned down to where the person's name should be… it was blank. In its place a Sigil she’d not seen before, a strange marking in red ink, like a deformed human skull. She sighed deeply, nodded to him and walked away the contract in hand, she had no desire to kill an old friend, worse yet a former father figure, but she would see it done, one way or another, or be killed herself.

~\/*\/~

Even now the only thing running circles in her head was whether this was set up, was there someone out there that knew about her past affiliation with Thorin? Not long ago she wouldn’t have been sure the answer was no, but now she was suspecting, but who to suspect was driving her around the bend.

Braerka was pulled from her inner turmoil by the gaudy bickering of nearby bunch of travellers astride ponies. Bunch was a weak word to use, there was fifteen of them in total, the most noticeable being an old man, with a tall, grey pointed hat and a long, scraggily beard to match. He lingered near the back and looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him.

They were chatting amongst themselves, and very loudly at that, back and forth along the long line. Braerka eyed those of the group she could see from the angle she sat at, she lay still otherwise, deciding whether or not to make herself known. She decided against it, remaining on the strong branch of the oak, listening to their inane babble, picking up a few words here and there.

She watched and listened as they passed, and when they had moved a fair distance from her. Settled on ignoring them, they were none of her business after all, the nagging need to get a better look at the old man in grey was insistent; she’d still be thinking about this days from now if she didn’t sate her curiosity. Just like that, she leaped into action, once again slipping her satchel over her shoulder and fixing her bow with it. She ran along the strong branches of the trees with silent ease, smoothly leaping from one to the next, swinging to adjacent branches as if she were as light as an Elf. Quick and quiet from years of training, she soon caught up. As long as they stayed near to the treeline she could continue to follow them easily.

Braerka sped up a few more trees to get in front of the group. Turning at her new vantage point, she almost fell from the tree when saw who was leading them.

"Thorin?!" she hissed under her breath. He looked up in her direction as though he had heard her; she shrunk back into the foliage of the trees, avoiding his gaze. He looked older, tired but at the same time still as determined, set on his goals and as driven as she remembered him.

' _No! It can't be!_ ' she was in shock, how was it that the very person she was to kill had showed up in the very place she had went to avoid him? Maybe it was meant to be, was supposed to happen this way, maybe it was fate at work. Maybe that’s why she was asked for, because she was nearby and simply on hand. She calmed herself when she realised she was getting ahead of herself, ' _it's just a coincidence!'_ she convinced herself.

When Thorin set his eyes front again and she leaned forward to get a better look at the rest of his company. Her racing heart was slowing to its regular beat and her rugged breathing stabilised. She recognised a few other faces among the group, namely Balin and Dwalin, far older and more grey than she remembered them. The remaining faces were a mystery to her. She looked them up and down taking in every detail of their appearance. If she was going to go through with this she’d need to know who she might be up against.

She scanned the long line of Dwarves and saw too rather young ones lagging far behind the rest. They were clearly sharing a private joke otherwise they would have been louder she guessed. The blond one, his short beard neatly plaited, laughed rather loudly when the brunet, whose beard was nothing but a faint shadow on his cheeks, had finished whispering into his ear. The brunet leaned back, upright on his pony, ' _Wow! He's…No! Stop Braerka! Don't think that!_ ' her conscience yelled at her. As far as Dwarves went, he was handsome beyond a doubt, her heart would have probably skipped a few beats if she were any other girl. He was young and striking and ever so slightly resembled Thorin when she first encountered him, although his features were even softer, and he had no substantial beard to speak of.

He smiled at his blond companion’s reaction. His grin spread from cheek to cheek and before he knew it he was laughing along with him at the unbounded humour of whatever he’d said. Braerka had to admit their laughing was infectious; she was forced to put a gloved hand over her mouth to stop herself from bursting out in kind. They stopped abruptly when Thorin called to them, "Fíli, Kíli! Keep up!"

"Yes Uncle!" the Blond replied. They spurred their ponies onward, still sniggering quietly to themselves, and caught up to the group. _'Fíli and Kíli… must be brothers_ , _who's who I wonder?_ ' she mused, before casting the idle thought from her mind, reminding herself that it was ultimately not something she wanted or even needed to know.

Braerka got up and continued along the never-ending row of trees gaining a few feet of distance ahead of them. She watched them pass again, this time she focused on the old man with the grey pointy hat. Her inability to put a name to him was annoying her. A mature looking, yet young, Hobbit rode beside him; he looked most uncomfortable on the pony and was constantly shifting about on the saddle.

The Hobbit, looked around himself, in awe of the mountains, he turned to the old man and began, "So… Where are we now exactly?"

The old man looked over to him and answered, "Well, you are full of questions today, aren't you Bilbo?"

' _So, the Hobbit is called Bilbo'_ she noted. Now she just need this Bilbo to mention the older gents name and she could carry on about her day of pretending Thorin Oakenshield didn’t exist.

"Well those mountains are the Ettenmoors, we're in what they used to call the Troll-Fells, we're still a long, long way off the misty mountains though" continued the old man.

"Um… Trolls?" said Bilbo, worried by the mention of the not so friendly beasts. Braerka smirked at the clear concern in his voice; it was rare to see a Hobbit this far East, never mind surrounded by Dwarves armed to the teeth, after all who knows what tales they tell of the lands beyond their safety net called Home.

"Don't worry, my dear friend. There hasn't been a living Troll in these parts for an Age!" the elderly man assured him. The Hobbit, surprisingly, looked convinced. She surmised he held great trust for this man, whose name he had still not said much to Braerka’s annoyance.

"Right, so, when we get to the Misty Mountains and beyond, find this hidden door or whatever, what then?"

"That I do not know, dear Bilbo, we will have to wait and see, won't we?"

The Hobbit didn't look satisfied with this answer, but he nodded, accepting the uncertainty of the journey ahead. Bilbo seemed a nice enough fellow but not the sort to travel much, he was definitely inexperienced and unsure of where he was and his questions had proved it, this Hobbit was new to travel. This only served to seed numerous new questions in her, chiefly being ‘ _Where on Middle-Earth where they going?’_

They passed her for a second time, her eyes once again drawn to the two at the back, particularly the brunet. She shook her head angrily, ' _Stop it! Not the time or the place!_ ' she scolded.

She continued along the branches again, they pulled into an alcove of sorts, an open grassy area mostly empty except for a farmhouse that lay at its centre in ruins.

"We'll camp here tonight!" Thorin announced to the others. They dismounted their ponies and began to set up a camp.

"It would be wiser to move on further, Thorin. We should make for the Hidden Valley!" stated the old man.

Thorin moved up into the farmhouse mumbling something, the old man turned and joined him, they were now out of earshot, and she had no idea what they were saying. But from the look on their faces it wasn't good. Braerka cursed her luck, shifting and straining to hear even the faintest of whispers from them. Nothing. _'Shoot!'_ she groaned under her breath. She tried to move forward as much as possible to hear without being seen, but the branch she was nested on began to give way.

On hearing the loud cracking of the snapping timber below her she climbed higher up into the tree and jumped to the next one across. Just as she pushed herself up the branch gave way. It fell, audaciously, shifting foliage and earth as it struck the ground tumbling before rocking to a rest a foot off a few members of the Company. They glanced over at the fallen branch, some with more curiosity than others. One with a droopy moustache and a floppy hat to match, approached it and looked up at the tree she had been in moments ago.

"Well now! That _is_ odd!" he said. His accent was strange, was he from the North?

"Aye, strange indeed" agreed Dwalin, in the same wise tone she knew him for.

Luckily for Braerka neither of them noticed her and they soon lost interest in what had caused it, proceeding to hack it to bits for firewood.

' _Phew!_ ' she breathed out, _'that was too close!_ '

As she settled herself on a new branch, the old man stormed out of the ruined building, his face fuming with annoyance.

"Everything alright? Gandalf? Where are you going?" asked the hobbit, clearly distraught at being left alone with the Dwarves.

' _Gandalf! The Grey! The Wandering Wizard?! No Way! What's he doing with a group of Dwarves and a Hobbit?'_ she thought astonished, she had heard many things about the great Wizard but had never thought him as one for dealing with Dwarves, they were a stubborn people after all.

"To seek some sensible company!" the Wizard replied, in a grumbling tone, walking up to his horse and mounting swiftly.

"And who would that be?" asked Bilbo.

"Myself! Master Baggins!" Gandalf shouted, his calm demeanour from earlier was all but lost in his fury, and he spurred on his horse. "I've had enough of Dwarves for one day." He continued, so quietly it was almost inaudible. Braerka could deny him that anger, she’d grown up surrounded by Dwarves, for a time at least; she knew all too well how insufferable they could be.

He trotted away, leaving his fellow travellers at a loss for words. _'What had gotten into him?'_ Braerka wondered. Her thoughts were soon answered when Thorin came out of the haggard shack, a glowering look on his face. "Come on Bombur, we’re hungry!" he said snidely, his eyes fixed of the receding figure of the Wizard getting smaller in the wide expanse ahead of him.

As he said it the fattest of the dwarves sprang into action, as if his life depended on this one task. He was surprisingly light on his feet for someone so bulky. The rest unpacked or piled up wood for the fire, the branch she had caused to snap now finely chopped and among the pile. A few of them settled on the grass and rested.

"Is he coming back?" Bilbo asked Balin, he was concerned for the Wizard, but he had no reason to be. Wizard’s were odd folk, they did as they pleased and had lived through all Ages, she doubted the beasts native to these Lands would best him. Balin's expression, however, was anything but hopeful.

' _Where are these guys headed?_ ' she wondered again, still watching them from the safety of the trees. ' _And why so many? What could they possibly need so many for? And why was Gandalf, a Wizard, with them? Why do they need a wizard? And a Hobbit? What good is a Hobbit?!_ ' She had so many questions and no answers, as of yet.

She watched Thorin wander off back to the ruined farmhouse and stand under what was left of the door frame. This would be her chance to get things over and done with; she balanced herself on the branch and unslung her bow. She took an arrow and drew, inhaling deeply.

"Fíli, Kíli!" Thorin called, they stood up straighter as he did, "Tie up the ponies. You’re responsible for them. Understand." The brunet looked displeased with the task but accepted his role, just as his brother did, together they stood and made headway with their duty. They marched the ponies to an open area, deeper into the trees, near an old well at the other side of their camp. They freed them of their heavy burdens, the leather saddles laden with their travel supplies, and allowed them to graze on the fresh green pastures.

Braerka still held her breath, contemplating. For a few moments she stared down the shaft at Thorin, weighing her options. She could kill Thorin now, fulfil the contract as commanded, get it over with and continue with her life, or she could wait. She could find out what their purpose was, get the answers to the many questions now eating away at her mind. Her fingers began to tremble at holding the bowstring taught for so long. Her mind and heart both raced together as her need for a fresh breath grew stronger.

Decades ago, she’d vowed to fulfil any and all contracts appointed to her, but this… killing Thorin… the Dwarven Prince who’d taken her in when they’d both lost everything, it would be like killing a part of herself. Could she vow now not to kill him knowing it would cost her life if anyone found out? The want to not die was overpowering, even for her. Braerka knew the weight of her decision here today, it made deciding all the more difficult than it needed to be. The only other option was to leave, pretend she never saw him, but then she’d not get those answers she so desired to have.

She stared at him; he stood watching his company oblivious to her existence. That familiar look of prideful determination emanating from him. The nostalgia won out. She dropped her stance letting the string on the bow loosen, finally letting loose that breath and gasping for another. She would not kill him, the sense of home she got from looking at him was like a whirlwind tide drawing her in, she couldn't resist.

' _I won't kill you… not now, not ever…'_ she promised him silently, _'even if it means death!_ ' She put the arrow back in her quiver and slung her bow over her back. Taking another long, deep, and much needed breath, she felt a wave of relief wash over her. Hopefully it had been the right choice to make.

Making herself comfortable where she was, she listened to them talk. The spoke of old tales, mostly to entertain Bilbo; who was as she’d guessed not privy to such stories. Then they spoke of food and how they yearned to be back at Bilbo's home feasting from the many delights he had offered. The Hobbit scoffed at them, and then proceeded to tell them it was the first and last time they would ever experience it. She lay there, still as the dead eavesdropping, learning about them from a distance. The Midday sun turned to late afternoon and then to dusk, it was well into the evening when her stomach groaned at her for attention.

Braerka endured a few minutes more, long after their conversation had turned back to the topic of food, one she wasn’t thankful for. The smell of the broth, bubbling away over their campfire, wafting up on the wind wasn’t appreciated either, she could barely hold back the hunger induced drool pooling in her mouth.

' _This conversation doesn’t seem like it’ll be very interesting…_ ' she thought, her stomach growled and rumbled again, even louder in response to the Dwarves never-ending talk of food; juicy warm meats, stews and the like. ' _Hmm… I guess I'll join you in your meal… figuratively speaking of course!_ '

She quietly snaked her way back along the trees, leaving the Dwarves to their business. She really needed to eat.

~\/*\/~

Once a fair distance from the Dwarf's camp, she had descended from the trees. Stretching, she limbered up her stiffened joints; letting her bones crack under the pressure of holding still for so long. She left her bow against the bough of a great oak and walked several paces forward and began to set up a snare trap before thinking the better of it. She wouldn’t be able cook what she caught tonight, not without blowing her cover, but it would be handy for an excuse if she happened upon her target sometime later, a convenient way to breaking the ice. She finished up setting up the trap, leaving a small token of bait for the weary victim it waited for.

Retrieving her bow Braerka walked deeper into the forest before setting up another trap, keeping an eye out for berry bushes as she went. She tossed another handful of bait down by the new snare before moving on again. If she didn't catch a single morsel with this lot set up there was something wrong. This was the Ettenmoors, the former Trollfells, a vast expanse of untamed woodland and foothills, a home to all manner of creatures, like common deer and rabbits, among various other prey species. It was as Gandalf has told the Hobbit earlier; Trolls and Orcs hadn’t frequented these lands for Ages, but that wasn’t to say it was safe to wander aimlessly. As she continued, swiping handfuls of berries, savouring their tart juices, she kept herself alert listening closely for any sign of life besides herself while her eyes continued to adjust to darkness that only grew more intense as she moved further from the Dwarf camp. The infamous White Wolf, and its pack, were common here this time of year.

The White Wolf, rarely found beyond the surrounding plains of the mountains, was a large wolf much like the Gundabad Wargs of the far North; it was renowned for its tenacious demeanour but had the best fur and skin for fletching. Though their meat was tough and left much to the imagination with taste, but it was a good catch for anyone that survived it; she could get a new coat out of it _and_ not go hungry. She laughed at her mindless optimism, the chances of catching one were slim, she wouldn’t get her hopes up, a rabbit or two would do nicely.

It was late, Braerka had been hunkered down in a nearby bush that she’d stripped of its fruit, for a long while now, keeping herself hidden in the undergrowth as she watched her traps. She had her bow readied, an arrow nocked on the string. She sat alone and in silence waiting, ready to shoot if anything presented itself. Patience was the key to hunting like this.

There were several clicks from a short distance away; her snares had been set off. She turned to check them, congratulating herself on the catch. Definitely not a White Wolf but at least now she wouldn't starve in the long run.

She sat a short while longer waiting in case anything else happened to come along, but nothing did. She resigned the arrow to its quiver, slung her bow over her shoulder then left her hiding place. She collected her prizes, three brown hares, tying them in a bunch by their hind legs. She felt a little sorry for the unwary creatures, earlier they had been hopping about munching on grass only to get caught in her trap and were soon to be eaten, but this was the circle of life, sometimes things like this just happened.

She cut the snare traps off the creatures with the small dagger she kept hidden in the folds of her boot, a trick the elves had taught her, in any event where she was captured or found herself otherwise unarmed she would still have a way of fighting back; it’s not like someone would take her boots. She returned the small sharpened blade to its home.

On hearing a low growling snarl resonate behind her she froze, unrelenting breathes of something more a little bigger than another hare. She slowly turned around to face her challenger, crouched low in the grass behind her almost undetectable in the dimming light of the evening, with a dull grey coat of wild fur was a Wolf. It much have heard the hares crying, or perhaps smelled the bait she’d laid out too. _'Stupid!'_ she scolded herself for her carelessness, as she crept to a better stance, moving slow and deliberately; keeping herself as low as she could.

She had to smile at the beauty of the large dog, its thick, more grey than white, coat swayed softly in the evening breeze, its eyes like black glass marbles stared soulless into hers, despite the hound's current innocent appearance the deep growling made all too well known its true intentions. It had followed the bait trail for one reason, it was hungry and now she was on the menu.

It snarled quietly and crept forward laying its own sleek body as close to the ground as possible. Braerka unsheathed her dagger again, dropping the hares. As she did she heard another growl to her left, her head spun to meet the cold, emotionless gaze of another wolf. It was even bigger than the grey hound, it’s coat crystal white like snow; it didn’t need to rely on natural camouflage when it had fangs like that, longer than her dagger and capable of tenfold the damage behind the force of that jaw.

' _Oh crap!_ ' she thought, reluctant to even breathe. She got up off her knees and balanced on her toes, still keeping low in the grass. Her eyes finally adjusted to the dim light and she saw that there weren't two or three but four wolves converging on her position. This was a lot more than she had bargained for; especially when she’d been hoping not to cross any. Why where they so far from the mountains?

The White Wolf, crept closer to her, snapping a thick twig under its heavy bulk as it moved. Braerka could hold back her gasp for air and suddenly the whole pack was growling and snapping at her; much less concerned about being spotted, itching to strike, to take a chunk out of her.

"Oh bugger!" she said aloud, but barely above a whisper. She fought back the urge to slap herself, how could she have been so stupid as to put out too much bait _and_ to not stay silent! She cursed herself over and over in her head, every second she spent doing so allowed the white spectre like creatures to creep closer and closer.

She slowly rose to standing and kept half slouched so as to not provoke a pre-emptive strike from her enemies. She started backwards, away from the organised pack in front of her, one slow step after the other. One growled and barked loudly as she did; the snow-white one, it seemed to the Alpha of the group, far bigger than the rest, and giving orders to the Betas.

Braerka's calm outer shell and a lifetime of training, were the only things preventing her from screaming out for help, she had never dealt with this many wolves before, and never had they been White Wolves. As the stories told, they were the worst, and were only surpassed in this sense by Wargs themselves. To be cornered by them and be alone, she doubted anyone had ever survived to tell the tale. She was determined to make that change.

Braerka let out a deep breath she had been holding and then chose to straighten to her full height; this commenced the full-frontal attack, spurring the beasts into action. The apparent Alpha leaped into the air, bearing its large white teeth like daggers, its strong jaw open wide. The others hurried into the fray and began circling her; she had nowhere to run.

She ducked and rolled out of the path of the flying Alpha and buried her dagger deep into the skull of another unsuspecting wolf, its lifeless body dropped limp to the ground. This act of brutality seemed only to enrage the others more, they were all barking madly, baring their teeth and baying for her blood. Another two ran at her, she kicked one, stalling its inevitable attack, and pulled her bow from her shoulder and whipped the other up the face with it.

Smoothly and at the speed of lightning, almost as if rehearsed just for this moment, Braerka drew an arrow from her quiver and readied it on the bow; she drew and loosed it on a charging wolf. The arrow darted forward through the air and nested itself deep within the frontal lobes of the wolf, tearing at cerebral tissue as it forced its way deeper through the bone and flesh. The beast whimpered before tumbling to a dead stop a little way past her.

The remaining wolves stalled in their approach, stunned by this action and unsure of whether to continue their assault. The Alpha howled and approached her slowly; the other began to back off. Braerka was still on edge and not about to take any chances, she stood battle ready and prepared for whatever would come next, only she wasn't prepared, not fully, not for everything.

The Alpha sped past her, not even giving her a second glance, she turned and watched it go confused by how easy it had even up, this was her biggest mistake.

The next thing she felt was an excruciating pain shoot through her lower leg and up into her core, she screamed out in agony; the force like having a blacksmith’s vice clamp down on her. 

_'A distraction! Smart bastards!_ ' She spun around and whacked the perpetrator full up the side with her bow; its bite loosened, she whipped at it again and finally it relieved its grip on her leg. The pain eased slightly but not much, she began limping away from the battle ground, swiping at any wolf that came too close, she sped to a run, the adrenaline numbing the pain. In mere seconds she was running full sprint.

The white demons, now fuelled with a new playful aggression, came chasing after her, two still remained, the Alpha and a vengeful Beta, strong and adamant on getting her. She skidded to a stop, turning to stab at the Beta wolf that had leaped for her neck, she tumbled with the body, righting herself by forcing it aside.

'Only one _left! And it’s the Big One…_ ' she exclaimed into herself, running again and not stopping for fear of her life.

She continued to run, even when she heard several loud battle cries from different places in front of her; she saw the light of the fire from the dwarf's camp ahead. ' _Oops!'_ she hadn't meant to come this way, endangering them while they were just settling down for the night wasn’t on her to do list; but their existence in general had been the last thing on her mind, in the confusion she had ran in any direction that had seemed safe. She supposed she could forgive herself for running to them.

Braerka stumbled as she ran up and passed a withered looking tree only to have her abdomen meet the flat edge of a steel war hammer, she was flipped head over heels, flew a few feet through the air and landed on her back the air in her lungs knocked right out of her.

Barely conscious and winded, she tried to get up, but only fell to the ground, her vision blurred as she lost all sensory connection to the world. The pain was catching up to her, and that blow hadn’t helped. She tried to grasp at the blue crystal around her neck, but her arms wouldn’t respond. She heard the pitiful whimpers and yelps of the Alpha Wolf as it ran for its life, and the swishing of the hammer as it split the air.

She lay on the grassy bank staring at the blurred forest canopy above her, willing her body to move but unable. A dark and shadowy figure came into view and loomed over her, and another smaller one appeared beside it.

An all too polite voice began in a whispered, nearly childish tone, "Look what you've done! I told you we should have waited a little longer before charging!"

The tall figure leaned in closer to her, she faintly felt hands griping her coat collar, "Shut it Ori and help me carry him! That Wolf may come back." said a rougher more aged voice. Braerka’s mind was too far gone to recognise the voice.

"Um actually, I think it's a woman, Dwalin!" Ori pointed out.

Dwalin sighed angrily, "Just help me Ori!"

The other dwarf complied as the last of consciousness left her body. Braerka felt gentle hands taking hold of her ankles. The last thing she saw was the flickering of the fire nearing from a distance.


	3. Trolls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Braerka wakes. Madness ensues. She gets a little stuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally a word for word rewrite of the scene in the film but from Braerka's POV, kept it much the same but made the dialogue more 'unique' ^_^

Thorin sat listening to the crack of the fire and was staring blankly at the myriad of red, yellow and orange hues at its core. The sun had long ago dipped low in the sky and the dark of night was setting in. He looked up when he caught movement beyond their camp in the corner of his eye. He was greeted by the image of Dwalin and Ori, whom he had sent to get more firewood; they were awkwardly dragging, what looked to him to be, a dead body towards the camp.

Thorin stood up in an instant; the chattering groups around him stopped as he did, following his gaze as he walked over to investigate. They followed him with their eyes, all except Bombur who was thoroughly enthralled by the meagre feast he was preparing for them all.

As the burdened pair moved closer, Thorin prepared himself for what would inevitably be one hell of an explanation. They stopped in front of him and gently laid down the blood-stained body. He simply stared noting that the body, a woman he guessed by the slim build, was still breathing. ‘ _At_ _least_ _they’re not dead…’_ Thorin thought, before he directed a stern glare at the two that delivered them. They looked at him, and then between each other, unsure of what he could be thinking and none too eager to start explaining; Ori was evidently expecting the worst, wringing his hands together nervously.

"Well?" questioned Thorin. His piercing blue eyes glowed ominously in the light of the fire.

Dwalin’s lips parted but before the warrior could speak a word or even breath Ori suddenly started speaking. The young dwarf burst out a slew of words, tripping and stuttering as he went, probably afraid that Dwalin would pin it on him.

"W-we were out getting wood for the fire- like you asked- and we heard growling and grunting, and someone screamed, s-so, we hid behind some trees. When we heard something running towards us- he…" he finally stopped for a breath after speaking at lightning fast speed and was pointing his finger accusingly at Dwalin, who old continued to frown at him. " _He_ swung his war hammer and hit _her_!" his finger moved to the unconscious body lying between them. Now more relaxed as he finished his explanation, Ori took another fuller breathing continuing at a slower and much more controlled pace, "Then we chased off the pack of wolves that was chasing her."

Thorin stared blankly at him for a few seconds, Ori had always been a little eccentric, but his rapid explanation had pushed him up on the mad scale. Thorin looked to the body, and examined it, nudging her round to see her face. "Her?" he whispered under his breath quietly. Ori started up again hearing his inquiry, but this interest was solely for Thorin himself and not the others. Very few women travelled nowadays, and even fewer did so alone, why was this one out and about? The weapons she carried told him she was no average woman.

Thorin spent a few moments taking her in; she wore what looked like a trench coat, made of buckskin leather, knee high gaiters over her leggings and heavy boots all of which were well worn and nearing a state of disrepair. She bore several belts bearing multiple empty slots for throwing knives, a bow lay by her side, a full quiver was slung over her shoulders. Dwalin was holding was he could only assume was her sword. She looked wrecked, she was covered in muck and blood, not all her by the looks of it. She had clearly been caught off guard.

He worked his eyes from her boots up to her face, suppressing the slither of recognition creeping up his spine. Her features were soft and young; she looked to be no older than about 20. She had naturally tinted lips, full and as lightly flushed as rose water. Her eyebrows were dark and framed her almond shaped eyes. Her hair long and wavy, down to her shoulders; it was a strong auburn colour, with reds and browns snaking through the familiar Dwarven style braids there. It unnerved him, how much she reminded him of someone, someone he'd long forgotten about, someone who he’d long thought to be dead. But what if… _'Impossible'_ he thought, eschewing the idea. The person in his mind was of the race of Men, their lifespan was not upwards of 100 years, they were no doubt departed and returned to the earth; wherever they’d ended up.

The unintelligible drone of Ori's voice rumbled on as Thorin continued to assess the woman up and down, making sure his face remained stoic. Staying silent, he only raised his hand and Ori finally stopped speaking.

"It was an accident… I assume?" he asked, looking to Dwalin, who was leaning against the accused war hammer that had led this stranger to the unconscious position at their feet. Dwalin directed his gaze to the ground almost as if in shame. He was one of the best and most experience warriors in him company, it was unlike him to rush in without thinking. He’d also never been one to let his emotions get the better of him, but then again to Thorin's knowledge he had never accidentally or deliberately injured a woman, of any race (who wasn’t actively trying to kill him of course).

Dwalin raised his head solemnly and nodded, the look of guilt didn't sit well on his usually confident and strong features, and Thorin felt a small pang of pity for the old warrior. Thorin willed his gaze to reassure him, his silent stare projecting the understanding that this was unintentional. His friend’s posture straightened, and he nodded once more, a more familiar look of sureness there.

"Well then…" Thorin began breaking the silence and trying to lighten the mood, "Oin see what you can do to help her, we don't want her to die do we?" The latter was directed at the whole company; they shook their heads and answered with plentiful 'no's'. Dwalin gave a small withering smile, which faded quickly, Thorin then laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder and returned to his seat by the fire.

Together, Ori and Oin carefully moved the woman aside, laying her down on an empty bedroll. Oin retrieved some of his medical equipment from his pack and began a thorough examination of her. He removed her coat and effects leaving them to one side. Thorin was shocked at the sheer number of daggers and small knives hidden beneath her coat, _'Who was she exactly? And why did she feel the need to carry such things? And so many.'_

Thorin simply watched from a distance chasing away the drowned memories this girl was forcing to the surface. He couldn’t let himself get lost in those thoughts, not now, not when everything was falling into place for them. They would journey to reclaim their Homeland, to seize back Erebor. That was his focus, faint memories of something he no longer had, or could have, were not a distraction he would allow himself.

He looked back to the bouncing flames and was about to fall back into his trance when he heard sprinting footsteps from the other side of the camp. A familiar young blonde dwarf ran up to him, concern written all over his face. His eldest nephew, Fíli. Thorin couldn’t suppress the telling smirk that crept onto his lips.

"Did something happen?" he asked slightly out of breath, "Everything went quiet. We feared the worst!"

Thorin suppressed a chuckle; his nephews had such active imaginations. "No, Fíli, everything is fine, we just have an unexpected guest is all." he told him, gesturing to Oin. Fíli sauntered over to him and took a good look at the woman lying on the bedroll; Oin was pulling off her boots, to treat her leg wound, stunned in surprise when yet another blade fell from the folds of treated leather and fur. Fíli stood bemused by this, before returning to Thorin's side.

"Uh… what happened exactly? Who is she?" he asked.

Thorin fully understood his interest in the girl, he was young, and she certainly looked young too, it would be interesting to watch him try to court her when and if she woke up. Not that it would happen, they’d be on their way and as one of the Line of Durin, Fíli had a duty to uphold.

"She was cornered by a pack of wolves then had and unexpected meeting with Dwalin's hammer. As for who… we’ll have to wait until she wakes."

Fíli raised an impressed eyebrow; she was a lot stronger than she looked to have survived a strike from Dwalin, is what he was thinking and Thorin knew, because he was thinking the same. The fact that her ribs hadn’t been crushed to dust was itself a miracle.

Thorin heard an almost silent 'humph' from his nephew. "You should be getting back to your brother no?" he hinted to Fíli, whose eyes were still firmly fixed on the girl.

Fíli looked to his Uncle, then to the girl, then back at him, "Um… yes, yes of course." he stumbled over the words not really wanting to leave. But Fíli slowly made his way back to his brother, glancing over his shoulder more than once. Thorin knew he would be telling Kíli about this and that they would talk about it for probably the rest of the night, again he suppressed a chuckle. Oh to be young and (mostly) carefree.

After watching his eldest nephew go, disappearing in the far reaches of the trees where they’d led the ponies to rest, Thorin turned back to the fire intent on working over the plans for Erebor in his head for the millionth time, making sure he’d considered every option, every possibility. There was no room for error, they had to succeed. Try as he might to ignore the apothecary working just beyond the flames, he couldn’t. He glanced up to Oin, who was now dressing the nasty looking bite on her leg. Why was she so familiar to him and yet so strange? He peered back into the heart of the warming blaze and allowed it to hypnotize him once more; the voices of the others soon becoming muffled noises in the background, dulled by the resounding cracks of burning wood, as he allowed himself to be buried in his own thoughts and troubles.

~\/*\/~

Braerka slipped into and out of consciousness, barely able to stay awake long enough to acknowledge anything around her. All she knew for was certain was that everything hurt. Time passed and she came to feel the warming heat of a nearby fire along her left side, as everywhere else grew numbed. That was shortly before she remembered someone telling her that she would be alright and to relax, which wasn't hard, and then a foul liquid being forced down her throat. She remembered almost choking and then falling back into unconsciousness.

Now she woke with a start, jolting upright at nothing. She immediately regretted her haste as an excruciating pain shot through her side; she clutched at her ribs and also regretted this as the pain only seem to double. It was like a scorching fire penetrating her very being, not comforting like the dwindle bonfire a few feet in front of her. She fiddled for the gem around her neck, it would alleviate her torment.

She took the blue crystal in her hand, brought it to her lips and breathed onto it, it’s timid glow intensified with a pale cosmic aura, and she let it drop around her neck. The blue glow deepened, and she felt was soothing warmth focus around her injuries. The pain quickly faded, along with the crystal's powerful glow. She sighed in relief, falling into the bedroll she lay on. The crystal had been useful in many situations, for it was no ordinary jewel but a Soul Reaver.

Soul Reaver's were extremely rare gemstones, which held the power to prolong your life if you were nearing death or in serious pain, but at a price or so the stories told. For each use they removed some time from your life, which for Braerka was no problem. Sacrificing such a small fraction of what was, turning out to be a seemingly, endless life was not such an issue in weighing the desire to see the new dawn or one a few years ahead. It was in among the few things her father had packed for her during the disaster 171 years ago. It was been the only piece of home she had, discovering it’s power was a revelation in itself; one she was thankful for.

She shut her eyes as she thanked the gods, Manwë, Varda, Aulë and all the others, that it had worked; lately the small gem had been growing more temperamental to say the least. Maybe she was running out of time to spend? It mattered little to her, instead she focused on her breathing, feeling the ebbing pain as it faded into non-existence. The crack of the dying fire the only sound.

She snapped her eyes open as she realised, sitting up again knowing something was terribly wrong. She looked around herself she was in the Dwarves camp; the fire was crackling down to embers and there were many bedrolls set up. She would have expected them to be as loud and audacious as they had been earlier, then assumed they’d be asleep, but there wasn't a single noise. In fact she couldn’t believe how slowly she’d came to realise that the camp was empty.

' _Where is everybody?!'_

Quickly she slipped on her boots and grabbed a few of her daggers from her belongings in the neat pile beside her. Standing up she took another look around, absolutely no-one, not a soul. Silence swept through the camp.

She walked up into the ruined farmhouse, to check if anyone was up there, still no-one. She dared a timid "Hello"; and with no reply she tried again, only louder, shouting her greeting only her own voice echoed back at her in the crumbling stone walls and still no answer. _'This is so strange…_ ' she continued in her head.

Braerka walked hastily to the other edge of the camp, fixing her shirt as she went removing the no longer needed bandages that had been wrapped there. Still no one. She then raced up to where she remembered Fíli and Kíli going to look after the ponies. Their faces came to light in her head as she remembered the brothers, but she quickly brushed them aside when she saw what was left of the ponies. There were more than half a dozen missing as she counted; those that were still there were tense and greatly agitated, whinnying high-pitched distressing sounds.

She approached a giddy chestnut-brown male, which whickered and tossed its head violently as she did. She reached for its muzzle and began stroking its forehead. It tried to pull away from her, she held fast.

"Shhh, it's okay, calm now." she whispered softly to the mount. Slowly it calmed, and much to her surprise she’d never been called a horse whisperer before. The steed trotted as far as it could, only to stop and toss its head in the direction of the deeper forest. Reluctantly she followed its gesture, running her fingers through his mane, long and full of knots.

"What is it?" she asked him. Again, he softly whinnied and tapped the dirt with his hoof. He was trying to tell her something, again surprising since she’d never considered such animals to be this intelligent, but they again there were all kinds of creatures in this world. This one, he was a smart and there was something in the forest he wanted her to see.

She quickly stroked his nose again and then ventured out into the trees alone, with nothing but the two daggers for company. She moved slowly, kept her eyes sharp. She passed several large trees which had been uprooted; recently by the looks of it, the earth not settled flat yet by the natural turn of time

' _What on Middle-Earth did this?'_ she wondered. Her musing was answered not long later when she heard deep rumblings in the distance; these were not the voices of any man or dwarf they were far too deep. They were sounds from beast much bigger in size, even bigger than the wolves she’d faced earlier. She spied the orange glow of another camp ahead of her and continued forward in a cautious crouch, silently approaching.

For a second she thought she had been going in circles, the scene around her not changing, when she saw three monstrous Trolls, looming over an unbelievably large fire. As she got closer still, the situation became all the clearer; as it wasn’t good.

Several of the Dwarves, she’d watched happily travelling earlier that day, were tied and hanging above reaching flames on a makeshift spit, shouting and arguing, struggling to be free. The rest of them lay a short distance away, trapped within large individual sacks. The three Trolls were drooling over their catch; two of them stood turning the spit while the other sat staring longingly as his next meal.

' _Trolls?! Freaking real live Trolls?!_ ' she screeched into herself. This was not good at all; Trolls weren't exactly known for their kindly manners but rather for their complete and utter idiocy and insatiable hunger for anything and everything that moved (and whether or not it was edible hardly mattered to them). To see actual, living, breathing Trolls, and three of them at that; it was something out of a story book. Something no one would believe if you told them in this day and age.

Braerka listened to them argue amongst themselves of how they would cook the dwarves, she didn't take any of the nonsense in however; she was more focused on figuring out a way to get the Dwarves and the Hobbit out of this mess alive. She owed them, sort of. It had been their fault she’d got injured in the first place, but then they’d helped her after the fact. So really she’d owed them nothing. It was her inability to leave the many questions she had unanswered that was driving her to find a way to save them all.

She rounded the camp slowly, silently ducking behind trees, boulders and large bushes to get a better vantage point; it was hard with the Trolls being more aware than she’d give the senseless creatures credit for. She had hoped that maybe she could catch the attention of at least one of the dwarves, after that she hadn't a clue what to do. She was making it up as she went.

About half way around she snapped a twig and one of the trolls looked up, zeroing in on her location like an elite predator. She froze instantly hiding behind a tree. Trolls really were more than all the stories said.

"What's wrong?" asked one of them, clearly the apparent mastermind of the trio.

"I heard something… in the trees!" replied another, with a higher-pitched voice, from this alone he sounded like he wasn't the sharpest tool in the drawer. He sniffed the air; she was certain he was getting closer. Braerka tightened her grip on her daggers ready for anything.

"I hear nothing! Sit down already you oaf!" spat the first and the other did so, knowing not to mess with him. The ground trembled under his angry strides.

Braerka peaked around the trunk, the scene had returned to normal, the other Troll stood turning he spit, staring down greedily at the squirming dwarves.

She continued around to the other side of the camp and took cover behind a small boulder protruding from the ground; she poked her head up over the hefty rock and watched.

The Trolls were now arguing about what seasoning to put on them, she was surprised they even knew of such things when it came to cooking; then again, they’d have the apparent sense to make a rotisserie and were even using crudely built tools, not all that stupid after all.

Braerka knew she would have to do something soon, the way it looked she didn't have all that long before things would turn ugly. But what was she going do against three giant Trolls? One Troll suggested sage, and then turned to choose a Dwarf from the spit, when of all the people, the Hobbit spoke up.

"WAIT! You are making a terrible mistake" he shouted. Braerka watched and he hobbled forward in his sack, trembling in fear but somehow still moving onward with a goal in mind. She remained tense but watch him closely.

"You can't reason with them! They're blooming halfwits!" cried one of the Dwarfs on the spit, another in response cried, "What does that make us then you twit?!"

She continued watching as Bilbo ignored their remarks, rolling his eyes, and hopped forward again to face the trolls. "I meant with your seasoning…."

"What about it? I’ll have you know we are the best Troll Chef’s this side of the Fells!" one of the trolls claimed, staring intently at the small Hobbit before him. Braerka unconsciously named this one Cook.

"Well…" Bilbo's voiced cracked a little but he quickly regained his composure and continued, "… I’m sure you are the best… but these guys… have you smelled them? You'll going to need more than a bit of sage!"

Braerka was impressed, not only with his quick thinking and bravery, but with his strategy. He was playing for time; it was the best and probably only thing anyone could do right now. The safest too all things considered. The Dwarves however weren't as impressed, or quick to catch on, and mumbled in unison against his life saving accusations. Stubborn to a fault. Bilbo could only grimace and pray the Trolls didn’t catch on too.

"What would you know about cooking Dwarf?" questioned the Troll, this one she’d dubbed Brains. The other who wasn't dumb but not entirely smart either, interjected, "Shut up! Let him talk. Might learn something…" He was interested in what the Hobbit had to say. Being the groups ‘head chef’ was evident from the weary and tattered apron he wore. He likely wanted to know what the Hobbit knew, only to enhance his cooking, which Braerka guessed couldn't have been great by a long stretch. Bilbo smiled, half bowed and continued. He should count himself lucky he’s getting a chance to breath never mind speak.

Braerka was getting ready to give the Trolls the fright of their life when a hand grabbed her from behind. She spun on the spot going over her formerly injured leg, a new pain shooting into the muscle. She cursed, gritting her teeth to trap the pained yelp she felt rising in her throat.

She pulled a dagger up stopping short as she looked up and saw the old man, Gandalf the Grey. He’d returned. He held a finger to his lips urging her to be quiet, his staff held in place by the crook of his elbow. He leaned forward to whisper to her.

" Wait a while longer, but, if things get out of hand before I’m done… use that!" he told her gesturing to the dagger she held. She was a little confused by his sudden appearance but nodded anyway, accepting the responsibility he'd given her. "I'll be up there" he continued, pointing. She followed his direction to a very large boulder behind the Trolls.

' _What on earth for?_ ' she wondered she turned back to ask him, but he was gone. ‘ _Wizards…’_

Bewildered by his disappearance Braerka decided to focus her attention back to the Dwarves. She was shocked by the sight that met her eyes, the fat dwarf, Bombur as she recalled, was being dangled over the mouth of the stupid troll. She moved to help, clenching even tighter on her blades but once again Bilbo spoke up, stalling her charge.

"NO! Not that one…h-he's uh, ah… _infected_?!" the Hobbit stammered quickly, more questioning than stating. The trolls, Bombur and everyone else that could see, looked at him puzzled.

"What? Infected?"

"He's got… worms in his… tubes!" Bilbo told them, hardly making a lick of sense but pushing through anything. Braerka had to laugh at this, she was sure the Dwarves themselves would be laughing, had they not been tied up and if they’d actually grasped that he was trying to save their lives. It was comedy gold to her.

The Troll holding Bombur chucked him down in disgust, unfortunately for the other dwarves he was lugged right on top of them. They groaned as his weight settled on them. She grimaced imagining what it was like. Bilbo however carried on with his web of lies as it seemed to be working a treat. Braerka silently cheered him on, still on guard and ready to move when needed. She spared a glance towards where Gandalf had said he’d be, still no sign of him.

"Yes… yes! In fact… they’re all infected! Everyone one of them. They're infected with parasites, the lot of them! It’s a nasty business! Total health violation! _I_ wouldn't risk it if I was you!"

Again the dwarves rose up against him. "We don't have parasites!" spat Kili from his sack, the others joined him, spouting nonsense and accusations at the Hobbit. Bilbo looked just about ready to clobber them each over the with the nearest branch, he probably would too if his hands were free.

' _How childish!_ ' she thought, ' _don't you morons realise this is helping you?!_ '

She saw Bilbo's face grow angry at their stupidity and then Thorin kicked them. They all went quiet, looking to their leader, then there was a sudden and obvious realization among them. Braerka could have leapt for joy. Thorin had realised what the hobbit was doing, and soon his company were agreeing with the Hobbit.

"Yes we're riddled! Absolutely riddled!" they cried out.

“I’ve got the biggest!”

“Mine are so big they can talk!” someone shouted.

The Trolls were puzzled by this; they looked at each other, confused and slightly afraid. The Company didn’t let up, spouting more nonsense from every direction, perhaps a little too much. Braerka noticed that Brains, was examining Bilbo with suspecting eyes. He plodded up to Bilbo, a massive knife in hand. Braerka readied herself, a feeling this fun was definitely over.

"What do you suppose we do then? Hmm?" he asked Bilbo, Braerka could hear the almost well-hidden malice in his voice. "Just let 'em all go?!"

It was clear Bilbo was about to say yes, just when the Brains shoved him back. Bilbo fell to the ground. He struggled to right himself, as the Troll took two large strides to loom over him. Braerka feared for the Hobbit's life now as the rusted blade was pointed menacingly at him. She fully readied herself, stalling until the last possible second, in the hopes that the Wizard would appear in the nick of time.

"You think I don't know what you're up to! This ferret is trying to take us for fools!" he told his friends. "You're first on the menu now, mate!"

The snarling Troll pulled back the knife, and reached forward with his empty hand, Braerka simply reacted. Quickly, tossing a dagger at the offending Troll and vaulting over the rock after it. Her blade buried itself in the hand of the unsuspecting Troll, who roared out in pain, stumbling back. She drew forth her other dagger and lunged at the Troll who was now clutching at its bloody hand, her dagger protruding like an oversized splinter on the back of its hand.

She jumped, ignoring the twinge of pain in her ankle, grabbing the hilt of the dagger already in it hand and slipping the other deep into its palm. With the aid of gravity she forced her weight downwards, holding fast to the blades, dragging the sharp metal with her, the skin of its hand tore loudly, and blood came oozing out. The other Trolls, being too slow to react, only noticed what was happening when she had softly landed on the ground between 'Brains' and Bilbo. She held her blood stained daggers up in defence, the throbbing in her ankle growing unnoticeable under the influence of the adrenaline flooding her veins.

Still roaring in agony, the Troll she'd attacked stomped further backwards clutching its injured hand, a trial of crimson marking its path, soiling the earth with bloody stream.

"Argh! Where'd you come from?" he cried out. Before she could answer the idiot of the group butted in.

"I told you I heard something!" he said a little too happily given the situation. It won him a slap across the face from Cook.

"Shut up!" yelled Brains, "where did ya come from?!". He growled again, and glared at Braerka, she stood defiantly, trying with all her strength to ignore the stinging pain that had flared up again in her leg as she steadied her stance. So far she had been successful, but one wrong move as she’d be a goner. Her only thought was how embarrassing it would be to go down in front of all these people.

"Where do you think I came from?!" she asked him mockingly, trying to follow the Hobbits plan and buy even just a little more time. "You think I fell from the sky or something!"

"Did you?" asked the Idiot troll which earned him yet another slap. He howled in discomfort. Braerka scoffed at them and shook her head. Her eyes darted back and forth between them, too preoccupied with surviving to notice the shock on some of the Dwarves faces.

"We could eat her too!" suggested Cook, "We'd have quite a feast then!"

"Nobody's eating anybody and especially not me!" she sniped back.

"Why not? Sure you’ve got little meat on ya, I could probably swallow you hole" Cook sang, laughing.

“I'd only cut my way out of you!" she said, baring her teeth, preparing a new striking stand.

"No you wouldn't!" spat 'Brains, self-assured they’d kill her before she had a chance to strike from within or without.

"Would you like to put that to the test?" she offered, taunting him. The Trolls looked at one another and gave no answer, she took that same silence as a no.

"Now…please do as the Hobbit here asked…" she began, taking a look back at Bilbo who had, somehow, gotten back on his feet, "… and Let. Them. Go!"

For a moment she thought it had worked, the Trolls looked as bemused as the dwarves did, in the end they simply laughed at her. She sighed, loudly and openly annoyed.

"Or…not…whatever suits…" she said mystified. She felt a little peeved at this but stood her ground, though now the ache in her leg was becoming unbearable. Brain’s having overcome the pain of the injury lunged at her. She tried to dart out of the way, only she stumbled as the pain took her balance, she couldn’t recover fast enough, Brains stepped forward and grabbed her good leg with his good hand. Braerka was all for looking at things from a different perspective, but with the world now upside down, and potential impending doom spelled for them all, she felt ill.

The sudden lift had caused her to drop one of her daggers, with the other she still held she stretched and tried slashed at the Trolls fingers only to miss with every swing before she lost her grip on it also.

“Ah crap.” She cursed. They all guffawed together at her. She was praying to Aulë that Gandalf would just appear, he was taking his sweet time.

"What you gonna do now? Got any more tricks?" asked the idiot troll.

"A few…" she lied, not actually having anything, but completely counting on Gandalf to hurry up while she aimed to ramble on for more time. She caught a flicker of movement in the trees behind Brain’s and felt a warming relief fill her, and suddenly the upside-down world didn’t seem to terrible.

"Oh yeah! How you gonna take us!" Idiot asked

"Um, me? No! I'm not… but _he_ is!" she said, just as Gandalf appeared on top of the large boulder he had pointed out earlier. Talk about cutting it close. She couldn’t recall a time she’d been more happy to see a stranger than now; a what he did next was truly amazing. She noticed the light of the sun creeping its way up behind him, as if he was summoning it himself; for all her knowledge of the power of Wizards he could have been. The question of how he was going to help, still lingered but then she remembered he is a Wizard; he’d cast a spell, kill them all stone dead. Or something like that she assumed.

Still struggling in the Trolls grip, she missed it when Gandalf raised his staff and slammed it down on the mighty boulder, a magical force shooting through the stone and splitting it right down the middle.

‘ _Great job, what on earth did that do?!’_ she cursed. Then all at once the stone split clean in two. Sunlight poured in through the gap.

The Trolls roared out against it as the light streamed through and burned them. No, it wasn’t burning them. Their rough skin became rougher as a layer upon layer of stone began to encrust their bulky forms. The light engulfed them whole. They all struggled trying to fend off their inevitable fate. Brains’ grip on her only tightening as if he was intent to bring her with him.

All became quiet and the trolls slowly came to fixed positions. Braerka would be the last to admit, she hadn’t known about this weakness of Trolls, and she’d been wrong about some magic spell. She _had_ been right about one thing at least; Gandalf had killed them _stone_ dead after all.

There was silence, as they waited for something else to happen. Then all at once the Dwarves shouted out with joy, they laughed, whooped and cheered. Braerka would have joined them in celebration had it not been for the fact she was now stuck. The petrified Troll holding her had only tightened its grip further in his last moment; her leg now trapped between its stony fingers.

Gandalf stood on what was left of the small cliff, smiling smugly, and laughing none too subtly at her misfortune, she would have hit him if she had been able.

Braerka struggled, twisting this way and that, trying her damndest to get free. The next thing she knew, the Wizard was standing right beside her.

"Well, I have to say that went rather well! Don’t you agree?" he said. Around him, the Dwarves, were helping each other. He’d helped down the Dwarves on the spit and they rushed to the assistance of those in their sacks. He then turned to Braerka, when his question remained unanswered. She was intent on getting down and talking the right way up.

"You seem to be stuck, miss…?" he told her, implying the question of her name.

"You don't say!" she said sarcastically, avoiding his question altogether. “A little help?”

From the corners of her eyes she saw the Dwarves reclaim their belongings and clothes that the trolls had taken. She saw Thorin eye her suspiciously, intent on avoiding familiarity she shot daggers at Gandalf silently demanding he help her, and now. The Wizard wasn’t impressed

"Fine." continued Gandalf, he walked away, "Get yourself down!"

Her mouth bobbed open and closed as she was left literally hanging there. A few of the dwarves laughed at this, she felt her cheeks heat up. She didn't appreciate it seeing as she had just help save their hides; although she imagined things might not have going much differently without her.

She sighed angrily and looked up to her trapped leg, the stone Troll had a tight grip on her boot, if she could wriggle her foot out she could easily get her boot after, she assumed. She began focusing her effort on her foot and not her boot, she could feel freedom fast approaching.

Her foot slipped free with more ease that she had anticipated, and she plummeted to the ground. Darting upright quickly as to not allow the dwarves to further ridicule her, she dusted herself off, then turned to get her boot, but it was gone.

"Where did…?" she said aloud. The looked around where she fell in case it had come with her, but no, no boot. She scratched her head puzzled and feeling a little unbalanced with only one shoe on, when someone cleared their throat from behind her. She turned to see the blonde Dwarf, juggling her boot between his hands. She sighed and rolled her eyes going up to him and snatching the boot from the loose grip.

"Thanks!" she said bluntly and proceeded to get as far from him as she could afterwards. The last thing she wanted was to give him a chance to talk or get her talking; the look in his eyes was all similar to those of men who lusted for her, she didn't want a Dwarf as young as him to endure the stinging pain of her rejection or of her boot in his crotch.

Hopping as she went she eventually slipped into her boot and stood back to admire the scene before her, everyone had made it out alive. She couldn’t help but feel pleased with the outcome, though it wouldn’t have been possible without Gandalf, and Bilbo especially. The Hobbit’s quick thinking was what really helped them. She looked for him among the busy crowed, spotting him helping one of the dwarves up. Braerka smiled in admiration, he was strong for one so small, _'someone to keep your eye on,'_ she thought.

Gandalf startled her, reappearing as if out of thin air at her side, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. "That was quite a show, wouldn’t you say?! You did well yourself, considering your wounds."

“My wounds?” Braerka questioned allowed and then suddenly the pretences of how she’d ended up there all came flooding back to her. Her eyes widened. She’d used the Reaver to heal those wounds, her ankle only aching now due to her own clumsiness. “Ah, yes… my… _wounds_.”

The old man looked down on her with inquisitive, yet kind and endearing, eyes peering intently into her. His were old eyes, a pair that that seen the turn of Ages and had witnessed things she could only dream of. Braerka turned away, breaking his gaze, she felt like he knew something about her, something that even she didn't know, she didn't like the feeling that came with that. His presence was soothing and yet somehow threatening. She folded her arms as they stood in silence, the only noise that of the bickering company in front of them. He soon walked on leaving her to her thoughts, something she could have done without.

This was her way in, a chance to get those answers she craved. Her one and only concern was Thorin. It was likely he would recognise her; would he act on that? Would he question it? What lies would she have to spin to protect him from her Assassin Brethren. It was a dicey game she was playing, two lives where in the balance; and she really wasn’t careful, the lives of everyone else here too. Leaving was still an option, she could make light conversation, feigning recovery, and then carry on her way. Yes, that was what she would do. Fake it until she got what she wanted, then leave.

With a renewed goal, she looked back at them. Her eyes catching sight of Thorin from across the clearing. He stood tall and refreshed by the experience somehow. His eyes met hers and stayed so for some time before Gandalf cut into her line of sight ending the subconscious reunion.

Braerka couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking, was she nothing more than just some stranger? Had he forgotten all about her and the time they’d shared? It was a lifetime ago for any human, but she wasn’t just _any_ human, and the passing times attested to that.

' _Did he recognise me at all? Probably not…'_

Braerka merely stood, their talk fading to white noise as memories long forgotten spooled back into her head, seeing him alive had made her day, reminded her of better times. Times she longed to have again. She forced them down, burying them beneath lies and mantras. Now was not the time for reminiscing, she would to find out what exactly they were doing and where they were going. Then she would forget she’d ever encountered Thorin Oakenshield this day and carry on as if none the wiser.

She stepped forward, deciding a healthy bout of eavesdropping was in order, at least to begin with.


	4. New Acquaintances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Aftermath of facing the Trolls. Braerka formally meets the Company and tries to get some answers. The Line of Durin is extremely curious.

Thorin dusted himself off, shrugging aside the sack he had spent most of the night in with about as much care as it deserved; that being absolutely none at all. He stood there among his fellows simply joyful and content to be alive. Catching sight of the Hobbit, he felt a renewed sense of camaraderie blooming at the sight of him. While they’d all panicked and seen their plight as hopeless, he’d boldly stood up for them. It was due to his quick thinking, and bravery, that they were alive now. His… and _hers_.

His cast his eye across the group, before finally he caught sight the young woman hanging upside down, still in the (now stone) Trolls grip. He stifled a laugh when she fell to the ground and then quickly fixed herself, acting like she'd meant to do it that exact way. Thorin was astonished by her, not hours ago she had been lying in the care of Oin, near bleeding out from her wounds and unable to stay conscious, but now… she stood there as though nothing had even happened. As if such wounds were merely a small inconvenience in her everyday life.

He watched as she retrieved her boot from Fíli, who had sneakily snatched it from the statues grip as she had recovered from her (not) fall. His nephew looked her up and down with keen and searching eyes, she had simply ignored any attempt at a conversation and walked on, slipping into her boot. He admired her for that.

It was then that her eyes seemed to catch his. He tried to avert his gaze but could not. There was something about her… something so familiar it ached. He hated it. Hated how distracting it was. She stood, an expression of pensiveness on her features as her piercing eyes burned into his, was she even aware she was looking at him?

He couldn’t help but wonder what her eyes looked like, did a myriad of hues lay at their core. _Her_ eyes had been a peculiar fusion. Hazel at the centre bleeding into grass and peridot greens with an almost black ring around the outer iris. They had had an ethereal glow to them, the kind of eyes that weren’t easily forgotten. If she had those eyes then… He cast away the thought thinking it incredible; regardless of her eyes, the person he knew was dead. This stranger, whoever she was, wasn’t _her_.

This one’s aura was commanding and powerful; he had to admit it. Nothing like who she reminded him of. Everyone seemed drawn to her, whether out of simple curiosity or otherwise… and that worried him, just a little. She wasn’t going to be joining them, they’d make sure she was well enough to carry on her own; it was their fault she’d been hurt in the first place. Perhaps, if given the opportunity, he thought (and if as sincere as she looked) she may even be useful to them if only for a short while. He refused to think more on it.

Thorin snapped back to reality as Gandalf came into view. He strode forward to meet the Wizard as he circled the stone Trolls, admiring his work. Thorin couldn’t help but let his eyes narrow in detached ire recalling their last conversation.

"Where did you go? Thought you’d run off to dance with the Elves, you do seem so fond of them." Thorin asked, doing next to nothing to hind the venom as he spoke of the tall folk. He wouldn't admit out loud, but he _was_ thankful for the Wizard's actions, and timely return, but this wouldn't make him forget the reason he had left in the first place.

"Not at all, I was simply looking ahead." Gandalf answered bluntly, staring Thorin square in the face. His features plain and stoic.

"And why did you come back?" continued Thorin, keeping the venom in his tone.

Gandalf final broke his façade, smiling broadly, "Looking behind, and seeing an unusually large trail of smoke. You lot don’t know how to stay out of trouble. Do you?"

Thorin shook his head and finally smiled, while Gandalf could be a pain, he was useful in tight spots and was also quite the joker. This Wizard would be the death of him if he kept up with these antics.

"Nasty business! Can’t believe they came this far down from the mountains. Blasted Trolls!" the Wizard said. He struck the nearest one -frozen stone and silently crying out- hard with his staff. A small piece chipped off, he moved and fumbled as if to replace it but ultimately thought the better of it, just letting it plunge to the ground. Thorin couldn’t help but be riled as how jovially he was treating all this.

"Nasty? We were almost eaten alive, Gandalf!" began Thorin, making sure the Wizard knew how upset he was, of course while remaining as composed as he could, "…and all thanks to your Burglar too! If he hadn’t gotten caught by them in the first place- I did tell you I would not be accountable for him!"

Gandalf's bushy grey eyebrows raised high at his. "Yes Thorin, it may have been by his doing but… was he not the one to help you also? Had he not played for time you would most likely have been Troll food long before I, or the girl, had arrived!"

Thorin bowed his head a little, to hide the expression exasperated defeat. He already knew all this. Gandalf was right; if not for Bilbo none of them would be here now. He would have to thank the halfing sooner or later. He made a point to ignore Gandalf’s mention of _the girl_ all but desperate to ignore her very existence, choosing instead to change the subject.

“The Trolls, you said they wouldn’t come down this far… why?” Thorin started, diverting away from where their talk was headed.

"Yes… they haven’t for some time now…" Gandalf mumbled as he looked about himself, "They couldn't have moved in daylight… you can see why."

"Then there must be a cave nearby!" stated Thorin, beginning to rush off, following the huge lumbering tracks, and the growing stench the Trolls deeper into the trees.

~\/*\/~

Braerka stood eavesdropping on the Wizard and Thorin. Right now she couldn't afford to miss even a single beat, she wanted to find out what they were doing, where they were going, and fast. She knew the longer she stayed near the more complicated things could become and the more reason she would have to actually consider killing him. Not that she’d let it come to that.

The others in the company were still fixing themselves up, reclaiming clothes anything and everything else the trolls had taken from them. Each looked more comfortable now in their own attire. Suddenly she was reminded about her own belongings still back at their camp, she would need to make a point to retrieving her things soon.

She was about to follow as Thorin and Gandalf began deeper into the forest, when Bilbo approached her out of nowhere, she almost didn't notice him; he was so light on his feet, not to mention a good bit shorter than her. "Excuse me miss?" he said grabbing her attention immediately, she stalled mid-stride and turned to face him.

Braerka, not wanting to come across as her usual in-your-face self, thought a short moment before answering. "Umm… Yes Master Hobbit?" she said with a slightly shaky voice, ' _was that too formal? Not formal enough?_ ' she wondered. She had little no experience with speaking to Halfling’s, specifically Hobbits; Bilbo being the first she’d ever met personally. Sure she’d been raised among with Dwarves for nearly 10 years, but Hobbits were worlds apart from Dwarves. Lately Braerka had made a point of not speaking to anyone who wasn't a man or an elf, and otherwise involved in her given contracts, in recent days. She had to be cautious of how she should conduct herself, more so of how he would respond.

"Oh please call me Bilbo! Bilbo Baggins, that's my name!" he in a jovial voice and bowing low in greeting. His voice was also trembling, either for the same reasons as hers or because he was still running on the adrenaline from last night’s events.

"I just wanted to say thank you… for umm… you know stepping in back there. The Trolls probably would have eaten us all! You really saved us you know!" he went on to say scratching at the back of his head. She loved his nervousness, it was endearing; no one of the opposite sex (human or not) had ever been this shy around her, she liked it; it was a nice change of pace. Braerka could feel herself becoming close friends with this Hobbit if given half a chance.

"No, I didn't save you all, _you_ did! I was merely led by your example! You're the hero Bilbo." she told him; he needed a confidence boost she could tell. Why couldn’t see be the one to give it to him?

He looked at her, a wide bemused grin on his face, "You really think so?" he asked, not quite believing what she was saying. He twitched his nose, hands slipping into in pocket as he puffed out his chest exuding pride.

"No! Of course not!" she said bluntly, beginning to walk away, after a few steps she turned back to him, he’d just as quickly deflated staring wide eyed at her. She smiled, "I know so!" Braerka didn’t stay to see his reaction but judging from the tiny chuckle it had went as intended. She couldn’t help but smile.

She continued over to where Gandalf and Thorin had stood moments before moving into the forest. Allowing herself a quick glance over her shoulder she saw that Bilbo was indeed still stood there with a dumbstruck look on his face, smiling broadly. It never ceased to amaze her how great an effect a few words could have. How they’d meant something to him however small they were.

Braerka began to make her way towards where the rest of the group had drifted; some had made off back to their camp to get important items and were now giving them out to their rightful owners. Dwalin marched up to her and handed over her coat and other effects she had left behind.

"Thank you." She said as he handed her stuff over. She avoided eye contact. _'Good_ … _don't think he remembers me either!_ ' she thought, as he said nothing.

She slipped on her coat, slung her satchel and bow over shoulder and began returning her many daggers to their places. Dwalin lingered close by, watching her closely. She felt uncomfortable and shifted uneasily from foot to foot, before concluding that, maybe, _‘he wants something'_.

"Can I help you?"

"Uh…" he thought for a moment, Braerka finished up dressing, "…no lass, it's alright" he said, starting to move onward, only he turned back and approached her this time with purpose. She felt her heart stop, instincts forcing her to take a defensive pose as she tightened her grip on the final dagger she was slotting in. Just as fast, she quelled the response, letting go and exhaling as Dwalin stopped before her.

"In fact it's not alright!" he said, his voice was loud and firm; full of resolve, "I'm sorry."

' _Sorry for what?_ ' she thought, she was about to ask when he continued almost as if he had read her mind. Her expression must have provoked his explanation.

"For last night, I was the one who… who hit you. I was an idiot for swinging early I know that now!" he said. Braerka felt like hugging him but didn't knowing it would seem outlandish since she was supposed to be a stranger to him. The emotion he was expressing was unlike anything she had ever heard from the old warrior, even from before. Braerka could only remember him as someone who didn't dwell on the past or the things he'd done wrong. Seeing him like this, it was a nice side of him to see if not a little unusual. The possible reasons as to why though… they were ranging from the mundane to the bizarre. For now she’d rather not know.

"Oin said you broke a few ribs, but you seem to be holding up well" he went on to finish. The tone of being impressed clear in his voice.

She smiled at him as he returned to his normal self, the self she was familiar with. "No, I'm quite alright Dwalin; you have nothing to worry about!"

He looked at her confused for a moment, then she realised, she had just called him by name, and as far as they were concerned she didn't know them. _'Smart, look what you've done!'_ scolded the voice in her head.

"Did I tell you my name?" he asked.

"No!" she blurted out immediately, "but… I heard one of the others address you…" she said trailing off waiting for him to accept it as the truth. He did so and nodded, he beckoned her to follow as the others moved off to where Thorin had went in search of the Troll’s cave.

As she walked Braerka felt a constant nagging in her ankle, the crystal had failed her once again and she was beginning to loathe it. The effects would typically last an hour after using it, her ankle shouldn’t be hurting still. Why wouldn't it just do its job like it had done when see first found it? Why now was it choosing to be so temperamental? It never worked and when it did it wasn't for long.

Catching up to the others she saw they were settling outside what looked, and definitely smelled, like a Troll's hoard. It didn’t take much deliberating before she decided to pass up the opportunity of seeing its interior. Dwalin continued with Thorin and several others into the cave.

Braerka set herself up on a moss-covered rock; she sat cross-legged checking the string on her bow and fixing up the finer details of her attire; as an Assassin half the job was done by a good intimidating image. She had just fixed another small dagger into its hidden place between her boot and was tightening the straps when the blonde dwarf from earlier walked up and leaned against the rock.

Braerka peaked at him from the corner of her eye continuing on as if he wasn't even there. He persisted, stood gazing up at her as she pulled the last buckle on the leather-bound gaiters uncomfortably tight. She didn't like how he stared, at one point she thought she was going to slap him. It took a lot of will power just from her to remain as indifferent as she did. She found herself wishing it was Bilbo sitting beside her.

Every time she thought she heard footsteps leaving her side she would look around to see his pale blue-green eyes peering back at her. She wanted him to just go away and plait his beard or whatever it is that young Dwarf Prince's do. Thorin had been a young Dwarven Prince when she’d first met him (he was still a Dwarven Prince just older now); she doubted that precedent applied to the energized youth beside her. She finished fixing herself, and then began redoing one of her own braids.

"Your well kitted out for a woman…" the Dwarf began, was this what he'd spent so long staring at her for, to tell her she was well armed? She knew that already. It came part and parcel with her job… which he didn’t know about. But then it struck her, the way he looked at her, the way he had been the one to retrieve her boot, the way he hovered… did he like her? Or was he merely sating his curiosity. It was clear to her that at the very least he interested. She scoffed silently and then looked to him, her thick eyebrows raised high.

Alarm entered his eyes at her directness, "Not that you shouldn't be or anything!" he began, defending his words, "It's just not many women travel now… and not alone either, not like… you…" he trailed off with smirk, lost in her gaze. She tilted her head and looked at him her eyes questioning, she said nothing.

He was handsome, for a Dwarf, she thought to herself. Not burly and rough like most but he was a good deal younger than the rest it seemed, so it was only expected. Weathering came with age.

"I'm Fíli, by the way!" he stated, taking her hand and shaking. His grip was firm and reassuring and warm. "Let me introduce my friends."

He then proceeded to introduce the rest of the company as they went about their business.

"That's Dori and Ori," he said pointing to two odd looking dwarves, one with highly decorated braids woven into his hair, the other was sporting an old fashioned bowl cut style; he too looked on the young side.

"Over there is Balin, Bifur and Bombur" he continued, indicating the older one – Balin- she knew, though his beard was now pure white instead of the warm grey it was when she’d last seen it. He was with an old looking warrior who spoke only in the dwarfish language of Khuzdul, probably in part because of the axe fragment still embedded in his skull. She understood snippets of his speech, but she hadn’t studied the language long enough to master it, and it had been years. Beside him was Bombur, whom she recognised from almost being eaten last night, he still looked a little shaken from his ordeal but was holding up well and nursing what looked to be a small flask what was likely just water.

"Oh yes, and over there is Oin, our physician and talking to him is my younger brother, Kíli." he went on to say, pointing over to them. Oin had a horn brought up to his ear; the old dwarf must be deafer than a post she assumed. Kíli however was speaking loudly enunciating every syllable of what he was saying slowly so the old dwarf could hear. He threw his hands up in defeat, after what had been his third attempt.

She took in the names and made sure she knew who was who before continuing.

"And who those in the cave?" she asked him, he promptly answered. He only seemed encouraged by her question.

"Nori, Bifur, Gloin, Dwalin and my uncle, Thorin. You’ll meet them all soon enough."

"Thorin… Oakenshield?" she asked him, just to make him think she didn't know who exactly they were, which for some of them was true. Throwing them off the scent would help in the long term, right?

"Ah… so you've heard of him?" he said amazed.

"Who hasn't?" was all she could say. She glanced at the cave entrance, muffled voices came from within, ' _they must have found something'_ she asserted from the echoing tones.

She heard Fíli sneer, he then stood and walked around to the other side of the rock, blocking her view of the cave and again made himself comfortable. She smirked as he did so, he walked with an air of royal entitlement about him as if everyone should bend to his will, and though he may be a Prince he was far from reserved.

She thought for a while; maybe she could ask him about this quest, get the information she so desperately desired and use his apparent interest in her to her advantage. Maybe she wouldn’t have to face Thorin at all.

"Why are there so many of you? Are you going to a party?" she asked him, outwardly trying to make herself seem sincere.

He smiled at the question, as if he'd been waiting for her to ask, "No, unfortunately it's not a party, but it is an important mission. You need a lot of people when you embark on dangerous quests such as ours". He spoke with mystery in his voice, he was deliberately being vague. She decided she would have to be a little more persuasive to get what she wanted.

"And what sort of _dangerous_ quest would that be, Fíli?" she made sure to say his name slowly and made her voice smooth and sultry. She leaned forward, close to him, and gently flicked one of his braids. He breathed deeply in response and then took her hand and began playing with her fingers. She just let him taking in all in stride.

"Oh you know… the usual. Save the day, become a hero kind." He said in a charming voice about to kiss her hand. She quickly withdrew her hand realising she wasn't going to get anything out of him. ' _This quest must be very important if he won't tell me anything!'_ she concluded.

She then sat back up and turned, raising her hood to block the young dwarf prince. She was infuriated, never before had she been denied what she wanted by any man (or woman) of any race and now this Dwarf had outright rejected her, _'Am_ _I_ _losing my touch! Am I finally starting to look my age?!'_

She went back to check her belts and buckles when she heard laughing. Braerka balanced herself and looked up to see an amused Kíli sauntering over. _‘And here comes more trouble. But perhaps this one is more pliable.’_

"Ha-ha! Having trouble with the lady, brother?" he said giving Fíli a hard slap on the back. She looked at the blond, he wore an expression of hurt, wounded by her retraction, but it also looked fake, as if he was playing it up for entertainment value. Guilt tripping wasn’t going to work on her.

"Nothing I can't handle!" Fíli retorted, parting with a sly smirk and winking at her. She was impressed by his tenacity and enthusiasm but was far from caving to him. She was sure that both of them, as young Dwarven Princes, could get pretty much any girl or boy of any race they wanted. She’d decided she wouldn't give in to either them so easily, in fact scratch that, _ever_.

"Be careful!" she warned him, "You can get burned if you play with fire!"

"I take that as a challenge then!" Fíli responded. Kíli simply laughed at his brother, then looked to her and nodded. His brother gave him a light punch in the arm and then left them, heading towards Oin who was taking stock of his own supplies.

After a few moments Kíli finally calmed himself and turned to her. "So how are you milady?" he gave a curt nod and swung himself round to where Fíli had stood moments ago. "Your leg seems to be holding up fine, and your ribs? Oin said it’d taken a few weeks for you to heal, and yet you were swinging about and fighting off Trolls."

His charismatic grin made her feel strangely at home, ' _must be something that runs in the family'_ she thought, she remembered Thorin smiling to her in a similar fashion when she younger, it had always made her feel safe.

"I'm completely fine. Thank-you Kíli" Braerka was about to ask him if he was okay, when Oin approached her probably having heard their short exchange. Fíli hastily joined them too.

"I need to check your leg" the old Dwarf grunted, lifting a few things from his bag. Stunned she barely had time to comprehend before he lifted her leg and removed her gaiter and boot. She almost fell back, strong hands catching before she did, the sudden jolt pulling her hood down. Braerka couldn’t ignore Kíli’s amused chuckle at her shock. The young brunet held her steady as the elder undressed where the bite which had been all but completely healed by the power of the Reaver (unbeknownst to them) had once been. Oin looked shocked to say the least, but he said very little and gave it a quick clean and bandaged it again. She then replaced her boot and gaiter feeling comfortable once more, pulling immediately from the Dwarf’s hold.

The Cave party finally joined them, exiting in a rush; a few of them came with their hands over their mouths. _'Was the smell really that bad in there?'_ she wondered.

Thorin came out last carrying two swords and headed right for her. She found herself consciously jumping to her feet, turning her back and dusting herself off. He sped towards her with a resolute trudge and stopped when he got to her. Fíli and Kíli both looked at her with somewhat sympathetic eyes before walking a few paces from them to stand by their Uncle.

"So…"Thorin began, "What do they call you?”

Braerka thought before answering, she couldn't tell him her real name could she? She toyed with the idea before deciding he was best kept out of the loop for now.

"You can call me…"she thought again, shuffling through the long list of titles she had settling on one, "Shepherd.” Braerka couldn’t help but sigh after telling him. He smiled somewhat amused by it. It may not technically be her name, but he hadn't strictly speaking asked for her name. His question ‘what _they_ called her’ and _they_ in this case were the Elves.

"Shepherd?" he repeated, the amusement was clear for all to see. She didn’t expect to receive kind words about ‘staying true’ to this name as he’d spoke of her own before. "That's a strange name…for a woman"

They stared silently at each other. Braerka was barely holding back the urge to spill it all there and then. The results that path could lead to held her down only just; she wondered if it could be work the risk to just say it.

"Well…" both her and Thorin turned to see Kíli. He’d trod between them, his brother still firmly rooted at Thorin’s side. "… a strange name for a strange woman!" Braerka felt herself smiling at this, they had only just met still he felt the need to defend her in such a way. ' _Odd._ ' she thought.

Thorin half laughed (more like scoffed) in response, before giving his new blade a look over. It was smooth and flowing, covered in reams of cobwebs; of Elvish make by the looks of it. He then considered his old broadsword, steel still sharp but dark as was the nature of Dwarven blades. He offered it to her.

"Here, take it, it’s redundant on my person and you'll need something bigger than your measly daggers if you are to accompany us much further." Her confident gaze faltered, dropping to the blade.

“I have my own sword… or well I did.” she was quick to say, suddenly acknowledging its absence.

He eyes narrowed at her, as he stepped closer still. It was like watching a predator close in on its prey, only this time she was the hunted and not the hunter. He pressed it to her chest and reluctantly she accepted. “This one is better. We will escort you to somewhere where your wounds can fully heal of course. It was by our fault you came by them.”

_Oh._

Of course. This made more sense than leaving her behind. Nodding to him in understanding and muted thanks; he nodded back then left her alone his nephews trailing behind like lost pups. It was a few seconds more before what he had said sunk in.

"Wait! Where are you even heading? Who says I’ll even agree to go with you?!" she called after him realising he had insisted on being vague on all the details. This wasn’t according to her plan, she just wanted a few answers, she couldn’t go with them, or could she? She looked to her former father figure as he pointed, by way of answering her final question, towards the entrance of the cave. There stood Gandalf, cherry as ever. 

_'Of freaking course, meddling bloody Wizards!'_ she mused, who else? She was now certain that the Wizard knew something about her, or he at least had an inkling; or maybe he just did these things on a whim, maybe there was no logic behind it. She hated this. Why was everyone of them being so vague and indirect. ‘ _Someone, anyone, please give me a straight answer to just one of my questions, please!’_

She chuckled internally, cursing shaking her head. She looked to the heavy blade she now held. It was blade heavy, but that would only made it easier to swing. Familiar Dwarven runes symbolizing strength, courage and Aule’s blessing, marked the metal. She loved how the hilt felt in her hand tough and unbreakable, like a force to be reckoned with. Like the first blade he’d ever handed her.

She tied it to her belt and let it hang by her side. Glancing up, she looked to Thorin, who was speaking with Balin. Even though he was right there, she still missed him greatly. She had him back, in a manner of speaking. All in the world seemed right, and as it was supposed to be at that moment. It almost felt like _Home_.

"Something's coming" one of the company cried. And the moment ended.

Everyone immediately stood to attention grabbing their weapons close and getting ready to move. She heard a violent rustling in the distance, it was getting louder.

"Stay together!" Gandalf shouted, as they sprang into action, "Hurry! Arm yourselves!"

Together they began to run off in direction off the sound, ready to meet whatever came; strength in numbers. One by one they took up arms and ran off following Gandalf, leaving herself and the Hobbit by the mouth of the cave.

He stood drawing a short blade, just the right size for him. He looked unsure of the weapon in his hand, he looked like he had never used or even seen one before. The blade too was elvish but much shorter still than Thorin's.

"Hey, Bilbo!" she shouted to him, beginning into a jog. "Come on! You don't want to be left behind now do you?"

He reacted to her words quickly, sheathing the short sword and snatching up his satchel. They both ran in pursuit of the dwarves and the unknown entity its rustling now permeated the forest around them so loudly it was hard to tell where it was coming from.

Braerka ran with purpose though her injuries still hurt her; Bilbo who had been running behind her was actually gaining on her and not long after was bolting ahead of her. Apprehensive of were events were leading here she did all she could and kept putting one foot in front of the other. This would be an experience, for however long it lasted. She would get her answers, avoid killing her old friends. She couldn’t help but entertain the thought, that if fate willed it, maybe, just possibly, she could get her long lost life back too.

‘ _One step at a time there Braerka. One step at a time.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's left Kudos so far! Really appreciate it! Working on this and about 3 other fics, plus my own independent writing is keeping me busy and I'm loving it. Updates for this are currently sporadic but I'm targeting up to 2 a week, Monday or Wednesdays; so stay tuned if you're enjoying more is definitely on the way.


	5. Wizards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone spills a secret and Braerka gets new orders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wayhey! It's been a little while, but only because I got caught up writing something else entirely, it happens. Another chapter is scehduled for thursday or friday, and then two a week from then on! Thank's for all the comments and kudos! It great to see how this story it still well received even now! 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this one!
> 
> Stay Cool! - jojo

The dwarves and Bilbo were fading from view among the densely wooded forest, they ran at full sprint, prepared for the worst but hoping for much less. Braerka had all but fallen behind, her aching leg getting the better of her. She ran as fast as it would allow, for as long as she could, but soon found herself gasping for air, her not broken but still bruised ribs causing her so much agony she couldn't breathe. She slowed to a stop and listened as the drum of their pace faded into the distance.

Braerka waited, ensuring she was completely alone before she reached once again for the Soul Reaver.

“Listen here you! Just do your thing, _properly_ this time!” Braerka new that berating an inanimate object was fruitless but she felt better all the same. Take a breath she blew onto it, watching it glow and absorb the energy from her. She squeezed it tightly in her fist allowing her body to absorb the waves of blue as they focused on her injuries. She felt herself become refreshed, the throbbing subsided and she could breathe easily again. She took a few deep breaths to test her ribs, hopped on the spot to gauge her leg. Happy it had chosen to listening to her, she tucked the small gem under her shirt giving it a light pat. Maybe she should snap at it more often, maybe then it would keep her ails at bay for good.

Looking up and around her she saw only the varied greens and browns of the leaves and trees, she had been left behind. Scoffing she started on at a slow walk. She had expected this; she was no-one of importance to them why should they wait? Especially when some unknown and potential threat was inbound.

"Aww well, they can't have gone too far." she said aloud for no-one to hear, beginning into a brisk jog after a bit. She followed the deep footprints they had left in their wake. _Tracking these guys would be far too easy._

Running in their general direction she stopped on hearing an unfamiliar voice cry out loudly, flocks of birds jumped from their nests and others were surely hiding.

"THIEVES! FIRE! MURDER!" she heard, then all went silent, the voice was of a man, and older man. She hurried her pace, admittedly worried for the others; the woods were less than safe when things went quiet.

Carrying on she soon found them holed up in a ditch near the forest edge. They were spread out, chatting quietly to one another, and relaxed; whatever the threat had been, if it had even been a threat, they had dealt with it apparently.

She slowed to a normal walking pace and cautiously entered their ring.

"So you decided to join us then?!" spat Thorin, he seemed angry, what had brought about the sudden disfavour in her. She wondered for a second, he could be testing her to see if she was of any worth to his group and so far she guessed she wasn't summing up to be much other than a nuisance.

"Well, honestly … I just didn't want to get in the way of your massive ego!" she replied smartly, the comment received a few chuckles but Thorin for one was not amused. _'He really has changed'_ she thought.

She remembered a time when he would have laughed openly at such things but now he saw no humour only offence. ' _Time can do terrible things to the strongest of us'_ she finished. Seeing this wasn't going to win her a good reputation she decided to withdraw her comment.

"Look…Thorin… what I meant to say was you guys could've handled it without me, and you did by the looks of it! Besides, I needed to acquaint my injuries to the burn of running." she told him with a smile, it was barely returned as she saw his lips move to form a smile but resorted to their natural position.

Seconds later Oin was coming up to her again, this time with a small phial of a dark green liquid; he handed it to her. She stared at him blankly; did he expect her to drink it? She considered the bottle with guarded eyes not wanting to discern the contents though its purpose was most likely to dampen the pain. She looked at him with baffled eyes, she didn't want to drink it and she didn't really need it either.

"Take it, it will dull the pain!" he ordered, confirming her own speculation. She again pondered the bottle, its green contents seemed to be alive and moving of its own accord. She really didn't want to take it. She looked up when someone laughed, to see both Fíli and Kíli side by side, looming behind their uncle and watching in bliss. Thorin chuckled deeply before turning back to Balin whom he had been in deep conversation with.

"Drink. Now!" ordered Oin once again, this only made her more uncomfortable with it. Fíli's expression was of almost uncontrollable mirth and enjoyment. Kíli's however was more like that of pity, he had more than likely endured the filthy fluid at some point.

Though she knew she didn't need it, she thought it better to play the damsel in distress a little while longer. Anything to avoid too many questions. She unstoppered the phial and chugged the concoction as quickly as she could; retching at its foul taste. She could feel her insides prepare to spew the substance back up; luckily she avoided the humiliation, holding her gloved hand over her mouth, holding her breath and gritting her teeth to stop herself. She waited while her stomach became settled and calm with its lewd contents.

Braerka swallowed over and over trying to rid her mouth of its undistinguishable tang, she wished it tasted nicer or had no taste at all, it would have been better than what she was experiencing.

Seeing her distress, a dwarf wearing a skin hat, with an eloquently long and groom moustache approached her bearing a skin of water. Handing to her she gratefully accepted and washed her mouth out with the cool liquid. She wracked her mind trying to put a name to this face, Fíli had introduced them all so quickly she hadn’t had a chance to commit them all to memory.

"Thank you, uh…" she gasped after a long gulp. The tastelessness of the water was like heaven compared to the medicine.

"No problem, you looked like you needed it!" he told her, hinting at the empty bottle in her hand. He must have also experienced it to know she would have needed it after. “I’m Bofur by the way.”

She nodded to him and him to her, his hat flopping as he did. He seemed a kind dwarf, his voice was gentle and sincere he was the sort of person you'd love as a teacher or mentor; someone who took the time to understand. He took the skin and returned to Bombur's side.

Realising she had no idea why they had stopped or what the threat had been, she instinctively edged towards Bilbo, at the moment he was the only one of them she felt truly comfortable with. While she had known Thorin, Dwalin and Balin, they didn't recognise her and she intended it to stay way. Bilbo's sincere, and somewhat naïve, demeanour was a nice change to the usual company of mindless drunkards and heartless mercenaries.

"Hey Bilbo. Do you mind filling me in?" she asked as she approached him. He perked up on seeing her.

"Not at all Miss Shepherd! And here you were the one telling me I'd be left behind!" he jested, a look of triumph on him.

She smiled with him as he jokingly laughed at his own remark.

"Ha-ha! Terrible isn't it!? And please don't call me Miss, just Shepherd will do." she corrected him, she had never really taken to formalities like that unless it was absolutely needed; it just didn't sit well with her.

"Of course…" he said, "Well… Shepherd, basically, to put it simply, we've bumped into another Wizard! Radagast the Brown or something… if you me it was like he was looking for us though. We're waiting on Gandalf, the two seem to be friends."

"Radagast the Brown?" she repeated, mulling the name over in her head, "Never heard of him… like at all, not even once!" She knew that there were five Wizards in total but the name Radagast was not among the ones she's heard of. "Where is Gandalf?"

Bilbo promptly pointed towards a clearing a few feet from them, "They're talking, be careful if you're going over, that Wizard is… well, I don’t want to say mad but, let's just say, a little strange!"

“You just did say mad though.” She pointed out, he was silent.

His facial expression gave her the impression that this Wizard was in fact nothing short of mad, _'had he been the one to yell those random remarks earlier?_ ' she wondered.

Her assumptions were confirmed, on leaving Bilbo to find Gandalf and see this Radagast, she was welcomed by the sight of a crazy old man. He wore a brown ragged coat and hat that matched his long tatty beard, his clothes were worn and tattered, and he had bird excrement streaking down the side of his face. He looked like he'd seen better days and like most people in middle-earth, he probably had.

She walked over to where they stood and leaned against a nearby tree. There she watched as they spoke not understanding much of what they were saying in their hushed tones and whispers. She stared as they both circled each other and continued speaking as they did. Radagast handed a fair sized package to Gandalf and grim look spread over both of them. From what she could see it was a sword of some kind, she would ask later if she was still around and it came to hold any relevance.

As planned Gandalf caught her eye, he broke away from Radagast tucking the parcel in his robes.

"Ah! Lady Shepherd! I was wondering where you got to." he said, happily welcoming her into the conversation. Radagast however took a different approach to her. Seeing her, his eyes widened, almost popping out of his skull, but they were fixed on her.

"Shepherd?" he asked, drawing closer to her. Braerka felt herself instinctively backing off only to hit the trunk of the tree she had stopped by. Gandalf did naught to stop him which concerned her, did both of them know something about her, had he told this madman what he knew?

"Yes, this is _The_ Shepherd." Gandalf told him, the grey wizard watched with curious eyes, "She is in our care until she is well enough to continue her own adventures."

She looked to Gandalf, he had called her _'The_ _Shepherd'_ this confirmed he definitely knew something, and this Radagast must also know as he was taking quite some interest in her.

"You're injured!" he snapped, drawing ever closer and raising an aged finger to her. "Why?"

She looked at him, what kind of question was that, people weren't invincible, she certainly wasn’t; even the strongest got hurt from time to time.

"Because… well, because." she thought for a second and never finished, she wasn't going to gratify this stupid question with any more of an answer, she saw no point to it.

"You have many secrets." he continued, she wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement and persisted in her silence for a moment longer, taking the time glare at him.

"Don't we all?" she replied eventually, giving him as few words as she could, so far she wasn't liking this Wizard, he was much stranger than Gandalf, less warming too. She only wanted to be back with Bilbo, or further still; as far away as possible from this conjurer.

He scrutinised her person, before leaning in even closer. He inhaled deeply taking a quick sniff of her air. ' _What on earth? Bilbo was wrong this guy isn't strange… he's off his rocker!'._ He breathed out and then whispered into her ear.

"You play a dangerous game, Miss Arkensan, be careful!" he said, a touch of mystery in his voice. Retreating from her stunned form he returned to Gandalf's side, she stared at him. Confusion and fear bubbled down and boiled back as an unexpected rage. She didn't like it when people did this to her.

"I don't believe we've met…" she began her tone harsh, he ignored her. The brown Wizard had his back to her, and he was coddling his staff and muttering to himself. This only enraged her more, why she was angry she didn't truly know, but these Wizard’s were keeping something from her, she had to know what.

Gandalf glanced between them, and then beckoned her to come. She obeyed only for the sake of the others. He pointed out a small bit of parchment in Radagast’s grasp; the seal it bore forced her rage to regress fear. The contract to kill, the one that bore Thorin’s name. She snatched it from him and folded it quickly, ' _How did he get this?_ '

"I took it from your bag last night... for safekeeping" Gandalf informed her.

Braerka was seething, concealing the rising tide of anger behind gritted teeth. He had stolen it and given it to Radagast; more than likely looking for his opinion on the matter. What would happen next was the only thing that scared her, not that she’d admit to that fear. Would he tell Thorin? Would he kill her, banish her or would he allow her to stay? Before it had looked like he had wanted her to stay, that maybe he had a vague idea of what she was trying to do and who she really was, but now she wasn’t so sure.

"And?" she asked him, trying to discern her fate. Ultimately she’d already made her decision, even if this Wizard was against her, she wasn’t just going to let him have his way so easily. He might have a few thousand years on her but she’d been around long enough to have learned how to stand by herself.

The silence as she waited for his answer was short-lived.

"And I have given it back" he concluded.

Though she felt like he intended it too, this didn't help ease her nerves; her breaths came in short raspy snaps as she tried to calm herself. She did so quickly, narrowing her gaze sharply at him. Gandalf's expression was that of understanding and distant concern, but also of confusion; if he knew the inner turmoil she faced in doing this he would have looked down more pitifully. If he’d really read this contract he of course already knew.

She wondered if he had noticed she hadn't signed the contract meaning she had no intention of performing the task written on it. He nodded to her to return to the others, and with little hesitance she did. For some reason she felt obliged to do what he told her now. It came from a want for him to not tell the others anything. When the time came- if it came- she would be the one to tell her truth.

"Come now Radagast, we have much to discuss and little time!" he spoke up as she left them.

Briskly walking to Bilbo, she half crumpled the contract between her fingers. She felt the eyes of the elders in the company watch her as she did; they would want to know what it was. On getting back to Bilbo she tucked it into her bag and then glared over to where the sorcerer's now stood.

She mulled over the facts and what they meant for her. If Gandalf said anything about who she was she would be found out; she didn't know why she was so worked up over it, it might actually be a good thing if he told Thorin. He would probably believe the wizard over her. But if he told him about the contract… well that was a different issue altogether, there was no coming back from that.

Deep in her thoughts she hadn't noticed the body moving close to her. She looked up when she noticed the shadow at her feet, a stout dwarf with intricate braids woven into his beard and hair stood in front of her. ' _Was this Ori or Dori?_ ' She couldn't remember. She sighed as he looked to her, she knew what he wanted, she had only to wait.

"Are you alright?" he asked, she looked up to him, this wasn't what she had expected him to ask. "You look tense, you know what you need? A nice cup of tea."

She laughed aloud and nodded in agreement. She was tense and probably could do with a hot drink. But such luxuries were far from easy to come by in the forests.

"Yes, Dori!" she exclaimed recalling his name, "I'm…I'm fine"

"I understand," he started, she was confused by this, ' _what on Arda is he on about?_ ' she wondered. "I myself don't like wizards very much, don't feel comfortable around them. Not that I've met many… in fact those two are the only ones I have! Gandalf is a decent folk though. Anyway…what did he say to ya and what was that paper?"

And there it was the question she'd been waiting for, she knew that she would be asked about it was only matter of time. He looked at her eagerly awaiting her answer, as did Bilbo who was to her other side. She looked to both of them, then standing up she answered.

"Nothing important, he… he just seemed to think he knows me!" she revealed to them. As she did the wizards walked up and past them. Radagast gave her a cagey look, she simply glared in revolt.

"He’s just trying to get in your head I say! Sneaky they are! Just ignore 'im, he's barking mad anyway! You heard him screaming!" Dori told her, laughing at his own words. She smiled at his mindless optimism, if only more were like him.

The peace of the moment passed quickly, a distant howling disrupting the quiet. Silence took them and Bilbo broke it.

"Was that a wolf? Are there wolves out there?" his voice was shaken, he began breathing rapidly. Braerka reached out a hand to calm him but he sped across the group to Bofur, who was looking around him wielding his hammer in preparation for anything whatsoever. She herself had a hand on the sword Thorin had given her, ready for anything.

"No, not a wolf….a w…" Bofur was cut short by a low growl from the high hill behind them. They all spun, and not a second later a giant dog like creature came skulking over the slope, it snarled and growled before leaping down and attacking. The animal grounded him knocking his hat from his head, the hammer the only thing prevent the beast from chewing his face clean off. Braerka drew the dwarven broadsword to hack at the beast before it could harm him only to be beaten to it by Thorin.

He buried his new elven blade deep into the monster's skull, before shouting to Kili to shoot as another crept up behind him. It sped down the hill and Kili stepped forward, his bow ready. His arrow was true and met its mark. The creature tumbled down the hill and met its end at the hands of Dwalin; he crushed its head in with a single blow from his hammer, this reminded her of how lucky she was to be alive. Bofur was standing again, his hat returned to its rightful place on his head.

The remainder of the company were now roused and on edge, all with their weapons drawn. Gandalf stepped forward and examined the scene. His face was grim, that didn't bode well for them, not that Braerka needed to be told that.

Thorin yanked his blade from the lifeless body and took a second to take in what had happened, "Warg scouts! Which can only mean an Orc Pack!" he proclaimed.

The company was now even more on edge; Orcs being vile creatures from the dark places of the world, nobody desired to ever encounter them. Braerka had only encountered them a handful of time, they were tough to beat alone but a pack, and a pack with Wargs, even with their numbers this was going to be tough.

An even more panicked Bilbo stepped forward, "Orc pack?! Why would they be…"

He was interrupted by an infuriated Gandalf, "Thorin, who did you tell about this quest? Who else?!"

Thorin looked wounded that the wizard would even consider that he would tell anyone other than those present or outside his own kinsfolk, and was quick to defend himself, "None beyond my kin and this company knows of this!"

Braerka sighed she had got it into her head that she would learn something of their quest in that instant, her hopes had been thoroughly dashed.

He breathed heavily his eyes pleading to Gandalf to believe him, the wizard said nothing. "What in Durin's name is going on?" he asked.

"I believe you are being hunted!" the wizard exclaimed.

' _Great!_ ' Braerka sighed into herself, ' _This means more running! You guys really can't catch a break!_ '

"We have to go now!" input Dwalin; the concern in his voice was prominent and forceful.

A quiet voice shot down from above, "But the ponies have all bolted! We’ll never out run them on foot." exclaimed Ori.

All heads turned when Radagast jumped in, "I'll draw them off!" he declared.

Gandalf attempted to dissuade him, "These are Gundabad Wargs, my friend!"

"And _these_ are Rhosgabel Rabbits!" he retorted smugly, “Nothing on Middle-Earth can outrun them!”

For some reason or other no-one moved to argue, if this madman wished to risk his neck for them why not, they would let him. At the command of Thorin the company began to move out, positioning themselves near the forest edge waiting for their leader. Gandalf lingered behind, watching as Radagast mounted his sled.

Braerka made off to join the others when a firm grip took her arm and pulled her back. She turned into the tug to face Radagast, she sighed why would he not just leave her alone.

"Be careful young Assassin, your choices may lead you to worse things than you intend! But they will need you before the end! Don't lose them and Good luck!" he told her in a cheerful tone, before whipping up his staff and starting off out of the forest.

"Good luck to you too!" she shouted after him intending for the sourness in her words to reach him. If he hears her he doesn’t show it. She wondered how he thought she could lose them but her answer came when she turned to join them; they had already left.

She saw their coat tails vanishing between the green of the trees, and she leapt into a full speed sprint after them; the throb in her leg dulled by the rush of adrenaline. She wasn't going to lose them after being told not to, if there was one thing she was good at it was following orders. Running fast and ignoring the nagging pains in her side and leg she focused on her goal and chased after the company.


	6. The Long Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pursued by the Orcs, Braerka gets a chance to show off to the company. A few others show off in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, another chapter for your reading pleasure. Hope everyone is doing well :)   
> Thank you for all the Kudos and Comments! It really means a lot. It also fuels my energy and I end up writing more!

Sprinting as fast as she could, she tried desperately to catch up to them, but her injuries were once again getting the better of her. Every time she tried to push herself to run faster a sharp spike of pain would slow her down. She curse the Reaver for one again refused to work; even Oin's foul medicine wasn’t helping. It was a feeling she loathed and what made it worse was the knowledge that to the Wargs she was now an all the more easy to catch target.

She took a shortcut across the rocky plain trying to catch up, weaving between the tall outcropped pillars of stone and hurdling over the smaller ones. From among the rocks she heard the turmoil unfurling in the distance, growling, barking, and Orcish cursing. She forced one foot in front of the last, ignoring the building pain and using only sheer will power to drive herself forward; so far it seemed to be working.

Braerka caught sight of them ahead, ' _Yes! Finally caught up!_ ' she exclaimed, finding a new energy come from nowhere making her sprint harder and faster to reach them.

Her hopes were dimmed however when they turned back the way they came, looking to the point of their distress she saw the Wargs and their Orc riders galloping past hot on the tail of Radagast, the Wizard had been right the Wargs were having a tough time keeping up with those rabbits!

Following their path but a fair distance behind she continued her pursuit; she was going to catch up to them one way or another. She kept pushing herself, fighting past the almost insufferable pain that was now begging her to stop. She had been through worse and survived, she wasn't going to let something this minor defeat her.

On hearing a growl, far too close for comfort, she took cover behind the nearest wall of rock. Peering out over the stone she saw a huge black Warg, battered and starved, and its Orc rider ascending the outcropped rock ahead of her, the warrior inside her pulled through and won over her cautious side as she realised beyond the rock was likely were Thorin and the others had run.

Taking no time to think she charged at the unsuspecting beast, drawing her newly attained broadsword and swinging it hard into its flank. It howled out in pain buckling under its own weight, its rider moved to strike her from above when she dived off the other side of the rock barely missing the rusted blade it wielded.

The maddened hound followed but she was ready for it; on hitting the ground she rolled out of its path and spun swinging the sword as she did, just missing the Wargs head. It charged at her knocking her backwards and off her feet, she fell into it and rolled again and pushing herself up.

The Warg snarled and so did its rider; the creature began another charge at the urging of the Orc. An inhuman battle cry in a dark tongue. She was ready; when it came she sidestepped before striking, burying her sword into the tick muscle and sinew of its neck. She moved to strike down its rider but he was already on the ground, blood spouting from its neck; she turned to see the company pressed against the rock, Kíli a few steps ahead of them holding his bow. She had no time to thank him however as the Warg still living, only barely, struggled up from the ground.

It turned to jump towards her, growling and dagger long teeth bared, but Kíli shot another arrow; the force behind it halting its advance. She took the chance to end its life. Raising the broadsword high she buried it in its skull and twisted. Its pitiful whimpers ceased as she withdrew the blade.

She turned around to face them, slinging the blood from the broadsword bore returning it to her belt. They stared at her mystified. Thorin especially, his expression was that of admiration and of clear confusion, she couldn't help but wonder if he subconsciously knew who she was already.

"What?" she asked them, somewhat confused herself but knowing full well they wouldn't have expected her to be able to do what she had just done; especially not while injured.

They said nothing and a few seconds passed in silence before nearing barks and wails of the other Wargs spilt it harshly. They all looked in the direction of the nearing din; they must have heard their comrades death throes. They hadn't been quick enough to silence them and now they were coming.

"Stay together! Follow me! This way, quickly now!" Gandalf shouted, starting into a run in the opposite direction with the company following close behind. Braerka also ran after them only to find her exertions had all but completely crippled her.

An excruciating pain shot up her leg, she fell forward but stayed standing; limping onward trying her hardest to keep up. She struggled to keep herself upright but the fear of death was more than compelling. She might had a magical crystal that (occasional healed her wounds) and a longer than average lifespan on her side but she wasn’t about to put her potential immortality to the test. Forcing herself to keep moving regardless of the ache, she dug deeper and deeper and used all of her strength.

Braerka stumbled again, falling firmly on her knees. She was about to resort to replying of stone hanging from her neck when she saw a dirty gloved hand reach down and take hers, pulling her up on her feet and continuing to pull her forward. Looking ahead of her she saw it was Kíli, reflexively she gripped tightly to him and allowed him to drag her forward.

"Come on milady!" he jested, not looking back, "I'll keep you safe!"

Despite their current situation she found herself smiling at his remark. And she ran, faster than ever trying to keep pace with him. Somehow through his words and sheer being he was giving her the strength to endure just a little longer.

Grasping tightly to his gloved hand, the warmth so intense in his palm she could feel it, she sprinted with him and the others. While he said he would keep her safe, there was only so much he could do and unfortunately running for her wasn't one of them. Her energy was almost entirely spent, the momentary boost from Kíli’s gesture spent. Braerka was grateful for their next stop, however life threatening it was. She took several deeps breaths trying to suck in even a little more energy. The stop was all too brief and soon after they broke away from the rocks and into more open plains.

' _What is Gandalf doing? Where are we going? We're done for in the open!_ ' she thought silently, as Kíli pulled her on following the others, her weight becoming heavier. She wondered if he had the same reasoning.

Kíli had sped up greatly after entering the open hills, Braerka had some difficulty in matching his speed, but somehow, through sheer grit and determination, she did. She supposed it was gut feeling that this race was soon to be over.

As they came further away from the stone maze they found themselves surrounded, there were too many Wargs and Orcs and not enough of them to even stand a chance of surviving a battle. Kíli let go of her hand gesturing to Fíli to keep an eye on her and continued running onwards. Braerka will never tell anyone who the loss of warmth in her hand made her feel.

"Come on now!" Fíli encouraged her as she started to slow, "We're nearly there! Wherever that is!" he panted, snapping up short breaths. Again she smiled, even if she didn't know them she would have known the two were brothers, charming and with similar senses of humour.

She ran as far she dared to the edge of their circle and wielded her bow; it would take as much effort as swinging a sword. She took an arrow in her hand and drew, ignoring the badgering ache now rising in her ribcage. As always she took a split second to breathe and let loose the arrow, her aim was true and it struck its target, a careless Orc creeping close, right in the head. She then shot another four consecutive arrows, each hitting their mark with absolute precision.

Kíli ran up and past her, taking a moment to acknowledge her skill; giving her a sideways glance, his eyebrows raised in astonishment, and nodded at her before raisin his own bow. Again she was smirking. She spun on the spot letting out another reel of arrows, as before they met their targets with ease. While almost incapacitated she wasn't completely useless.

The others in the company took up defensive positions raising their weapons ready for the impending fight, and that was when Braerka noticed that Gandalf was gone.

"Where's Gandalf?" growled Dwalin, as if reading her mind, yet again.

"Blasted Wizard!" exclaimed Gloin furiously; his fiery anger matched the red of his beard.

The others began falling back as the Orcs began to close in. Their stock of arrows growing thin.

"There's more coming!" cried Kíli, falling back beside her, still firing the odd arrow, sparingly so. The Wargs that got too close for comfort his priority targets.

"We're surrounded!" Fíli screamed, as their enemy spread out around their perimeter.

Braerka did as Kíli did, selectively picking off the easy targets and those that came too close, before reaching for her last arrow. She look at the scene before her, their odds of winning were lower than low, they were done for; surrounded, outnumbered and exhausted from running, there was no way they could win this fight. Right? Dread filled her at the realization that her promise to keep Thorin alive was already about to be broken… unless…

The weight of the Reaver around her neck drew her attention, if she used it now would it actually heed her request? It might be their only hope.

Before she even moved to grab it, from the corner of her eye she saw a pale slither of shining metal appear. She looked and saw Thorin had drawn his elven blade, it shone bright in the sunlight, like a beacon of hope, catching everyone's eyes. _Not our only hope._

"HOLD YOUR GROUND!" he shouted, his strong leadership qualities coming into play. The others obeyed and Braerka found herself also conforming, stalling on firing her last arrow to the last possible second. Their enemy closed in quickly but they were ready.

Conveniently timed Gandalf reappeared making himself known all too nonchalantly.

"This way! Come on, swiftly now!" he ordered, shaking his staff crossly, and then receded back behind the rock.

"All of you! Move Now!" commanded Thorin, running to the rock and seeing it led to secret cave of sorts. "Now! Hurry!"

The others quickly sped to the entrance and began sliding down into it, one by one the skidded down the slope to safety, Kíli using all the arrows he had left kept most of the Wargs at bay. Braerka still had her last arrow nocked on her bow, only wanting to use it when she had no reason not to. That moment came when a Warg darted at Kíli's blind side, she shot the riderless mongrel in the head, its body dropping limp and twitching to the ground just behind him.

He nodded to her in thanks, and backing off closer to the cave, but still being too far for comfort was hailed by Thorin to get a move on.

He sped up his retreat, snatching Braerka's hand causing her to drop her bow, and sprinted with her to the mouth of the cave. Fíli slipped in closely followed by Kíli, then Braerka tumbled in after and last but not least Thorin.

Seemingly safe in the claustrophobic space, they heard the resounding drum of approaching hooves and a sounding horn, Braerka recognised the trumpeting tones, ' _Elves!_ ' she thought. She was too busy gasping for air and ignoring her numerous aches to even look up.

She and the others sat in silence listening to the slaughter above; the numerous growls and snarls of their foe reduced to pitiful whimpers and screams. All went quiet as the hooves retreated; the only sound in their sanctuary was the deep and heavy breathing of the company.

In those few short seconds of peace Braerka cast her attention to Thorin; he was almost on top of her. Only now being this close did she noticed the severity of the streaks of grey snaking through his hair, it was much longer than she remembered but then he was much older.

She steadied her breathing, inhaling through her nose, taking in his scent. She was surprised that he smelled exactly as he had all those years ago, like a Black Smiths forge; smokey and warm; that was something. Looking him up and down, she saw he was definitely still the iron-willed Dwarven Prince who had shown her warmth and given her a home all those years ago. But he was so different as well; he was no longer a young Prince but a ruthless leader, a crownless King. His piercing blue eyes were darker, heavier, with the weight of all he'd seen his lifespan, she assumed. She felt for him, he had shown her kindness and she only wished that life in return could have been kinder to him.

She averted her eyes as he turned to look at her, when suddenly the sound of the marching hooves returned right by the mouth of the cave. They were followed by a few more screams of pain and death and then an Orc tumbled down into the cave, the company backed up as the body rolled to a stop at their feet.

Again the drumming hooves dissipated and an air of calm took hold of them as they realised the Orc was stone cold dead.

Thorin stepped forward and prodded the orc with his sword before sheathing it and yanking out the arrow embedded in its neck.

He examined it with angry eyes, "Elves!" he spat in a tone of distaste casting it to the ground. He then glowered at Gandalf silently communicating his anger. Braerka knew all too well of his dislike of elves, he had never forgiven the elves of Greenwood for not aiding them in saving Erebor all those decades ago. She too shared in his dislike of the Greenwood Elves, having been raised under his influence but would never openly admit it; she liked remaining impartial.

Gandalf simply shook Thorin's glare off him and began moving into the cave as some of the others had begun to do.

Dwalin had found an almost perfectly hidden pathway and tore down the overgrown vines that hid its entrance. "There’s a pathway here! I can't see where it leads! Should we follow it?" he asked, unsure of what to do.

With no lack of sarcasm Bofur answered him, "No, we're going to stay here and share juvenile stories! Of course we follow it! You don’t want to go back up there do you?"

The remainder of the group pushed forward in haste as a form of answer; all wanting badly to escape the tightness of the rock, though the Dwarves were accustomed to living underground, the closeness of the air was uncomfortable. They did not want to linger too long when the possibility of being found at attacked was still high.

Exhausted and drained from the cross country run Braerka could barely stand. Nothing seemed to be working for her, not the Soul Reaver nor Oin's pain draft, nothing. She took a few steps forward before falling against the wall, she propped herself up against it before slowly sliding down it and curling up. She could remember only one time when she had felt as helpless as she did now, she wished not for the memory to surface, but her heavy eyelids won over and shut and the images came flashing back.

She blocked them, she didn't want to relive it, not again but she was weak from her excursions and couldn't fight it. She allowed her head to fall back gently against the rock and remembered.


	7. The Short Walk to Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Braerka and the Company finally have a moment to breath.

Braerka lay there, her burning muscles cooling against cold rock, and her exhaustion allowing the memory to resurface bit by bit. The memory of the day her life took another turn away from normal. That day, in a way, had been the beginning of her as she was. If it had never happened so many other things would have played out so differently and she wouldn't be where she was or nearly as strong, both physically and mentally. Then again, perhaps she would have had something akin to a family.

~\/*\/~

It was mid-summer, nearing four years after the loss of Erebor. What remained of the Dwarves had been through much, traversing the wilds of middle-earth looking for a new place to call home.

Braerka had grown strong, raised among dwarves as if she were one herself she accustomed to the harshness of the daily routine called survival. Some months after Smaug stole their home from them, the Dwarves settled down in a small temporary dwelling, some leagues South. The men of Dale, began their own settlement, set about taking advantage of the land around them; the Lakefront was as good as any place. It hadn’t been in the plan to stay for so long but it was convenient and for some time it was home, until they’d moved on, leaving the Men behind. Now, home was wherever they stopped to rest their heads.

One day, after about a year of travelling, when the sun was still low in the sky and breeze was lacking, Thorin had deemed her, and several other Dwarfling's, ready for training. Even while on the move they would be taught and every morning at the crack of dawn she would be woken by Thorin; she would then briskly get dressed and run down to the fields with eagerness and await instruction. She loved it, the daily plan, the order; everything was constant.

On that particular day however, after several years of fierce training, Thorin and Dwalin had given them something different to do. She and the other Dwarfling’s would have to fend for themselves in the wilds surrounding their current encampment for four whole days alone; using only the skills they had been taught. Braerka had been timid towards the idea, unlike the others that had been raised since birth observing and learning these skills; she hadn't been learning for very long and was mindful of the fact that she would have to be successful on order to be truly accepted.

Dwalin briefly explained to them what they would have to do, "You will each get a pack with supplies for one day, use them wisely you never know what might happen. Your task is to survive… catch your own food, make your own shelter or perish… you will only get one chance at this." He snuck a wink in her direction, a hint that perhaps this wouldn’t be the only chance should they fail.

The other Dwarfling’s had teased her that day as they prepared for their endeavour; she couldn't remember their names, but their young faces were clear as day. Being the only girl in training at the time she had been the source of many a day's amusement for them, the fact that she wasn't even a Dwarf made things all the worse for her. But she knew she was different and ignored their ploys.

Shortly before leaving Thorin called her over, he handed her a pack and then kneeled down to her eye level, just like he had done not so long ago. For all the time that had passed height had been the one thing she never gained.

"The worst thing you can do is panic, stay calm remember what we've taught you and stay alive. You know to come back if it takes a turn for the worst. It okay to not be ready." he told her before laying a light kiss on her forehead. She loved it when he did this she felt safe and as though they were the only two in the entire world. She had noticed he did this more often since his father had begun acting odd and in turn spent less time with him, she thought maybe he was afraid of losing her, as he had lost him, and sought to make the most of the time he spent with her.

She nodded and smiled at his words, every day she grew stronger for having been with him, he was-everything else aside-the best thing that had ever happened to her. Before she could barely stay upright when fighting but now, with his training and direction, she could defend herself with almost anything. The passing of time would only make her more adept. She subconsciously tightened her grip on the small dagger hanging at her belt which he had given her.

Dwalin had called all the Dwarfling’s together before starting their trial. He told them not to go any further than the boundaries marked and not to be helping each other. And then they were off, all six Dwarfling’s, and Braerka, started their trek out into the outer reaches of the neighbouring forest, not knowing what the next four days would bring and hoping that everything would go as planned.

The first three days went swimmingly for her, she was able to catch rabbits and fish from the river using the skills Thorin had taught her. She had made herself a tiny refuge in one of the larger trees, she had always been better than the others at climbing. That was probably the only advantage she had.

It was hard to believe that things had been going so well from where she was now. She had fallen down and old mine shaft by the looks of it, from decades past, it was hidden by overgrowth and weeds. It was small enough space, perhaps forgotten following a collapse and abandoned, beyond repair. Though it was not that deep she had landed awkwardly and was trapped, her foot stuck beneath the fallen rubble that had given way beneath her weight. Her initial response had been panicked cries and hopeless pleas to the surrounding area, but soon she calmed remembering Thorin's words, _'The worst thing you can do is panic…_ '

She looked up at what she could see of the sky, it was getting dark, black swirling clouds flew past above. The others would be returning now and here she was stuck. She knew the first they would assume was that she was dead... that's what happened when you failed this test; if you didn't come back you never came back.

Timed passed slowly and soon she fell asleep. When she awoke looking around she saw she was still stuck in the same old shaft but there was one key difference, it was raining, and heavily, the hole had begun to fill. She was up to her waist in rainwater.

She began to panic again and struggled desperately to shake free of the debris holding her down, but it wouldn’t shift; her strength gone in urgency. She then began clawing at the wall to pull her up but that wouldn't work either, the wetted dirt and stone came loose under her grip and only allowed her to fall back down.

She slumped back into still rising water and began to cry softly. Then she heard voices deep and distant through the lashing rain and whipping wind, and she remembered what Thorin had told her, " _the worst thing you can do is panic, stay calm and remember what I've taught you and stay alive"_

The words echoed like bells in her head, but she calmed and began to rapidly and methodically think it through.

The voices she thought she had heard were gone but if there was a chance they were still close enough to hear her -and not a figment of her imagination- she would take it. She began shouting and yelling in the hope that someone would hear her, maybe it was Thorin, maybe he’d come looking for her.

"HELP! ANYONE! I'M DOWN HERE!" She screamed at the top of her lungs over and over, choking as she swallowed some rainwater every now and then. The water level rising more and more with every passing second.

She had propped herself against the soaked wall of the shaft and was met with an icy embrace when she slipped and fell under the murky waters. She re-emerged choking and spluttering, and again tried to scream but the rain was fast and much stronger than she was at that moment, and it drained her. In that moment she thought her survival to that point had be worthless why survive Smaug only to perish at the hands of Mother Nature?

But she wouldn't allow herself to perish that easily, taking no time to think she sucked in a deep breath and dived, the murky waters blurred her vision but she felt with her hands and took hold of the weight on her leg. Within an unknown strength (and the aid of the rushing water) she managed to shift it off and then quickly resurfaced, gasping for air and spitting out the water. But she had done it, freed herself, now all she had to do was climb out or wait for the water level to rise high enough. The second option was not her ideal choice, she was exhausted and she felt her eyes begin to close, waiting could mean death.

In the next few seconds the moonlight that could reach down into the shaft was blotted out and then she felt another presence with her in the shaft. She felt hands take hold of her and pull her from her constricted prison. She felt the warm night air on her skin as she was lifted from the water. She felt the hardness of the ground and coolness of the moist grass on her back as she was laid down, her body battered by the heavy downpour.

Braerka forced her eyes open, struggled to keep them open, and saw a tall man staring down at her soaked form. She coughed the water from her lungs and allowed him to take her up in his strong arms. He had held her tightly that night, keeping her close and warm as he travelled far from that place.

She remembered that night feeling overpowering fear and taking what she needed from it to survive; she had used it to her advantage and had done so ever since. That night had been the start, the man who found her, made no attempt to return her to her family, but instead took her far away and forged her into who she was today. A lethal Assassin.

Every day since she used Thorin's words to carry on, even after she lost him, or rather he lost her.

~\/*\/~

Braerka let the images of the event reel off like a film in her head. She had been so helpless that day, much like she felt now; she could barely will herself to stand. The cool rock against her back, feeling alone and lost it was all the same, save for one difference she wasn't in any real danger and could rightly move if she wanted but couldn’t manage to even twitch a finger. Everything ached, she just wanted Thorin to come a hold her like he used to all those years ago after a hard day’s training, to tell her that everything was going to be alright and that he was there.

She shook her head, those wants and wishes were long dead and would never be fulfilled she reminded herself. She tried force herself up but her limbs still wouldn't respond, she was drained beyond her limit and wanted only to rest.

Feeling herself drifting off into sleep, she allowed it to swamp her, but then a timid voice called to her. "Shepard? Are you alright? Here have some water." She cracked open her eyes, and then opened them wide when she saw Bilbo standing beside her, his face ripe with worry, holding out a skin of water. He pushed into her hands and urged her drink. She accepted it silently and took several large gulps before handing back to him. "No keep it, I'm sure I can get another from one of the others." he said sincerely, smiling at her.

"Thank you, Bilbo." she replied meagrely, her voice raw from lack of water and energy.

She felt somewhat refreshed by the somehow icy cold water and pushed herself up cringing at the pain in her gnawing at her side and leg. Though she felt like she would collapse any second, Braerka steadied herself and started forward after the others.

"Come on" she urged the Hobbit, "Don't want to get left behind again do we?!" She placed a friendly hand on his shoulder, half to hold herself up and half to get him to move and walked with him.

Braerka and Bilbo quickly caught up. Gandalf smiled suspiciously as they re-joined them. She hardly cared what he was up to anymore -or at the least in that moment she didn’t. They walked in silence for a while, too exhausted to talk, their energy spent on running for their lives not moments ago. Braerka was amazed at herself, how she found herself able to continue was beyond her. Every step was like walking on hot coals, pain starting from the soles of her feet shooting up and striking every part of her; maybe the Reaver was doing something after all. She walked with a heavy step, fatigued beyond measure and desperately wanting to use the magical gem; but with her luck lately she knew there would be no point.

After a short time she noticed that Kíli was falling back person by person and was eventually by her side. He was slightly smaller than her, only by about an inch or two; he was tall for a dwarf but definitely not the tallest of the group. She tripped over herself yet again, exhaustion beginning to set in. He caught her and allowed her to lean against him while she steadied herself.

"You're in a bad way; we really need to get you to a healer! Let me carry you!" He told her, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist to keep her upright; she could feel the effort in his muscles as he took her weight.

"I'll be fine, Kíli. I just need some rest is all! Thanks for the concern though." She exclaimed, trying to seem strong although deep down the pain was slowly killing her. She tried to push herself off him, but his grip was firm and somehow gentle, he wasn’t letting go.

He huffed, "I'm being serious! You may be some badass hunter or something, but you're still only human! You're not immortal!"

_'Not entirely true'_ she thought, but then she wasn't entirely sure. She could be immortal, she might actually live forever and not be capable of death. She didn't want to find out though, but the questions still remained _'Why had she stopped aging in the first place? How was she still alive?_ '

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard Kíli continue his rant, "You need help, whether you want it or not! If I have to drag you to a healer I will!"

Braerka couldn’t help but smile at his vehemence, his dark brown eyes flamed with passion as he spoke to her. He really seemed to care about her and her well-being; it was almost like a younger Thorin was standing before her; headstrong to a fault. It was strange to her, no-one had cared for her this much for years, and she had never let anyone get close enough to want to either.

She smiled acceptingly at him. "Ok then" she said, too tired to argue.

His expression changed to confusion, "Wait... What?!"

"I said ok, I'll go see a healer as soon as physically possible! You don’t have to drag me though!" She repeated.

He seemed stunned, "Whoa!" He exclaimed, she looked at him, her expression said, _'what?!_ ' He quickly explained, "Not many people actually take my advice, save for Fíli, but he's my brother he sort of has to! People usually find it... how can I put it? Useless and more likely to make things worse!"

She laughed at his last comment and so did he. Fíli must have overheard as he turned and gave them a sly grin, he chuckled then looked forward again. "We'll I think your advice, in this instance, is very good and couldn't possibly make things worse!" She assured him. He continued to smile, his cheeks slightly blushing at the comment.

"So you promise?" he asked, making sure she hadn't tried to change the topic to avoid it.

"Promise." she told him, smiling back at him.

She suddenly became even more aware of the fact that he still had his arms around her waist, and then she thought, _'God! Does he like me too?!'_ , Fíli had been all to forward about it at first and she began to think maybe she had overlooked Kíli's attempts; she had to admit his hands seem all too comfortable resting on her. Or was she just becoming deluded, was the dehydration and fatigue going to her head? Yes, that was definitely it.

They came to a narrow passage not too long later and were forced to continue in single file; Kili consequently had to release his hold on her but chose to walk behind her; his hands now resting on her shoulders in case she fell again.

They again walked in silence, trudging onwards through the twists and turns of the high rock walls. Braerka stroked the walls with her hands, to keep herself upright, and to let herself know she was still alive as her fingertips went numb and acquired a tingling sensation a while after moving over the rough surface.

The path then came to a wide dell, which opened up into a large, airy valley. Braerka was totally taken aback by the sight that met her eyes; she never used this back entrance before. The others were equally unprepared for the beauty that lay before them.

Gandalf stepped forward amused by their shock and awe, "The valley of Imladris!" He stated, "In the common tongue it is known by another name".

"Rivendell" Bilbo input, Gandalf, nodded to him before finishing, "The Last Homely House East of the sea!"

They all looked down in awe at the beautiful sight. The entirety of the haven was glowing, the sunlight bouncing off every surface it found. Waterfalls cascaded gracefully down the rocky walls encasing the metropolis in the valley. Birds flew overhead and soared across the hollow, settling on rooftops not far away.

"Wow!" Exclaimed Braerka, it had been a while since she had stepped foot in Rivendell, and of all the times she had been here this was the first time using this pathway. She hadn’t even been aware of its existence. Rivendell was breath-taking, if not more beautiful than she remembered. They all stood in silence taking it in.

The moment was interrupted by a less than happy Thorin. He turned to Gandalf, slamming his axe to the ground, "This was your plan!" He spat angrily, "To seek refuge with _Elves!_ I told you..."

"You have no enemies here, Thorin!" Gandalf retaliated, appalled by his ignorance. "The only ill found here is that which you bring yourself!"

Thorin was having none of it, Bilbo stood beside the Wizard looking concerned and slightly bemused by the situation. "You think the elves will help us? No! They will try to stop us!"

"Well of course they will!" said Gandalf, his anger diffused, "but we have questions that need to be answered. Here is where we can find our answers."

Defeated and with no argument to this statement, Thorin backed down, exhaling loudly, he was not keen on the idea of getting help from the elves, they had given him no help in his time of need before, why would now be any different?

Braerka looked back over her shoulder at him, (still in Kíli’s warm hold) feeling his pain. She too, like Thorin, had some distaste for Elves, but specifically the Elven King who’d turned their back on them that day. She was never show it. She blamed them for the loss of her home many years ago, as he did, but that was in the past, no amount of hate was ever going to change that.

She looked to the rest of the company, they were waiting rather impatiently. Some of them were in quiet conversation, others standing awkwardly apart from the others. Most of them shared his distrust of Elf-kind, the younger ones not old enough to understand or to care but took after their elders and disliked them anyway.

"If we are to be successful this will need to be handled by someone with..." Gandalf continued, a sly smirk decorated his face, as he grumbled, "... charm! And respect for their values!" Braerka looked to him smiling, he was a funny old man, and she was starting to like him as much as she hate that possibility. He started forward, coaxing the others to follow, "You all will leave the talking to me."

Reluctantly, the Dwarves followed as the Wizard led the way. They descended the narrow, windy slope and began the last stretch of the journey into the flat sparsely wooded entryway. No-one spoke, they simply followed and stared in wonderment at their surroundings. Braerka found herself slowing greatly even under Kíli’s guidance but knew that the closer she got the more safe, she and everyone else, would be.

Would it be too much to hope that things would go calmly for these guys for one day? Braerka liked to think that it wasn’t too much to ask of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last week was mad, and it took me ages to get around to posting this, but it's finally here! Sorry for the wait. All comments and such greatly appreciated! 
> 
> Now if I could just get myself focus on one thing long enough to finish it one sitting instead of writing a million different things that would be just nice! :)


	8. The Last Homely House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Braerka gets some R&R and contemplates the future.

Slowly but surely they all made their way down the narrow pathway to the Elven dwelling. Coming to an even narrower, long stone bridge they were forced to cross it in pairs, all the while taking in their surroundings and gawking at its wondrous beauty. Kíli outright refused to let go of her, even going as far as to try and lift her (which she refused to allow) How he was able to ignore his brother’s teasing was a mystery.

The Dwarves were attentive to their surroundings, skittish like wild animals, weapons still drawn for fear of attack; they were unnecessarily on edge, if the Elves had wanted them dead or captured they would have done it already. Braerka could feel the not so distant eyes watching them already.

The only members of their large troupe not agitated but fully relaxed and unarmed were Gandalf, Bilbo, herself and Kíli (who was latched her side like a limpet). She watched as Bilbo looked around enthusiastically, his head flitting from left to right, his eyes wide; he didn't want to miss a single detail. She admired his keen interest; few people who travelled ever stopped to take in the beauty around them, she was glad he was taking his time with it.

Finally they came to a stop in the open courtyard across the bridge and Braerka was glad for it. Her muscles thanking her a thousand times as the aching burn in them began to cool. She could barely stand and felt that she would collapse soon; she wanted nothing more than to do so. The rest of the company remained on edge, suspicious of the inhabitants, tightening their grip on their weapons.

They waited a few moments before a tall, dark-haired Elf greeted them, "Mithrandir…" he said loudly, descending the stone steps.

"Ah, Lindir." replied Gandalf, thankful someone he knew had come to welcome them; his eyes however where searching behind the Elf. She didn’t have to guess to know he was looking for Elrond, Lord of the Valley.

The entirety of the group behind the Grey Wizard watched the exchange intently with keen eyes, wary of the Elf and the armed guards behind him; they instinctively drew even closer to each other, their weapons inching higher. Braerka by now had urged her living cane to move up to the front to stand beside Gandalf; Lindir turned to her a wrinkle creasing his brow as he frowned.

"Well, well, if it isn't the Shepherd of the Forest!" he said snidely, she didn't appreciate the tone and ignored the subtle hint of disdain in his eyes.

"Nice to see you too, Lindir!" she answered, glaring at him in kind. She had never liked him he was too self-centred and cared not for other’s opinions. Although it had been 25 years since their last meeting, she could clearly see the unease with which he still regarded her. He hadn’t forgiven her for the commotion she caused last time; it wasn’t entirely her fault that the wine had sent her common sense packing that night. Although it was definitely her fault a particular statue of an Elder Elf had ended up headless.

Slightly shaken by the fierceness in her gaze, Lindir quickly redirected his attention to Gandalf. The Wizard took a second to acknowledge what had just happened; he viewed Braerka with confused eyes, a small smirk playing on his lips too. Of course he had many questions now, as would the Dwarves. She would have to answer to them sooner or later; later seemed ideal. Never would be even better. She decided to ignore the knot twisting into stomach; choosing instead to put more weight on her aching leg, it was distraction enough.

Lindir began speaking in Elvish, to keep the Dwarves out of their conversation, but Braerka knew the language well and listened.

" _We heard you had crossed into the Valley, why?"_ the Elf began.

"We must speak with Lord Elrond…" replied the wizard, speaking in the common tongue to give the Dwarves a little reassurance as to what was being said.

Lindir sighed, "He is not here.”

"Where is he?" asked the Wizard plainly, not about to turn around and leave.

It was then that the familiar sound of Elven horns sounded. The same ones they’d heard not too long ago. Turning sluggishly Braerka felt unsure of what would ensue; she was anxious for the Dwarves and how they would respond. Gandalf turned with her as the sound of clapping hooves grew nearer. Braerka noticed the company tense and tighten together further. Even Kíli exchanged holding her for drawing his sword. He was lucky she had the bare minimum of strength to continue holding her own weight in a near upright position.

The smile that had decorated Gandalf's face quickly faded when he saw the approaching band of Elves showed no sign of slowing.

Thorin was then immediately shouting orders to them, "CLOSE RANKS!" Braerka shivered, recognising the tone, the same one he used when training her decades ago; he was taking this threat seriously.

All at once the Company moved into a very compact crowd, ready to fight back. An unsuspecting Bilbo was yanked to the centre and the others bundled around him.

The mounted Elves galloped across the narrow bridge and began circling the small group, looking down on them. Braerka thought them cruel to do so, what they were doing now was far from welcoming and more threatening; they knew rightly of the strained relations between Dwarves and Elves, this was only going to make it worse.

They finally came to a stop.

"Gandalf!" said one of the Elves who she recognised as Lord Elrond; he was clad in his burgundy armour and looked the same as he had all those years ago. Again they spoke in Elvish; she stood translating subconsciously as they did. She wished they would be done with the pleasantries already, every fibre of her being was crying out for a warm bath and a long sleep.

" _My friend, where have you been?"_ began Gandalf.

" _We were hunting a stray pack of Orcs that had come up from the south, needless to say we slew the lot. Cornered them by the Hidden Pass.”_ The Elf Lord answered, dismounting his horse and approaching Gandalf; he embraced him warmly.

"Strange for Orcs to cross our borders. What could have drawn them near I wonder?" He asked suggestively, handing his sword to Lindir who reluctantly took it looking as if it had somehow insult him. Elrond then turned to regard his guests, the unanswered question still hanging in the air.

"That _may_ have been us I'm afraid" the Wizard told him, gesturing to the burly pack behind him.

Lord Elrond observed them then perked up noticing a familiar face. He took several steps forward before gently placing his hands on Braerka's shoulders. He spoke to her in elvish.

" _It is good to see you are alive, old friend! Tell me, what have you been doing the last 25 years?"_ he asked her. She noticed Gandalf give her a mystified look, she was certain it had something to do with the _'25_ _years'_ part of that sentence.

Much to Gandalf's and the rest of the company's surprise she responded in fluent elvish. " _Oh you know, this and that, dicing with death, just the usual."_

Elrond smiled, he laughed a deep throaty laugh before continuing. " _Getting into all kinds of trouble no doubt! You always have been good at that!"_

The pair laughed, though Braerka forced herself to stop the pain a little too much to bear. The Dwarves looked on with puzzled expressions, it made her realise how little they really knew about her; they really had no idea. Mind you, it wasn’t like she was forthcoming with fountains of information about herself.

Elrond then gave her a hard friendly slap on the back which caused her to flinch severely with pain; she had almost forgotten about her (probably still) broken ribs.

"You’re hurt!" he gasped in the common tongue, she had to bite her tongue from snapping the obvious in return, "Lindir! Bring her to the House of healing, make sure she is well looked after!"

She was about to protest when she remembered her little chat with Kíli on the way down. She had promised him she would see a healer a soon as possible. She found his worried face among the Dwarves, his eyes pleaded with her to go and keep her promise.

Braerka only smiled and winked at him, he smiled in return; bright and beaming. She knew she needed the help as much as she didn't want to accept it, but she had made a promise and made a point to always kept her promises.

At the urging of the Elrond she was escorted up the stone steps and away from the Dwarves. Silently she urged the Elf Lord to treat them kindly, he nodded by way of answering. She hoped to see them soon and hoped that they played nicely in return with the Elves, that some bond of trust could be made even for a short while.

~\/*\/~

Braerka was quickly led down the open, airy halls of Rivendell to the 'House of Healing' where she was left in the care of Nadia. The old she-elf, with long, silver flowing air, had stripped her down to her undergarments and given her belongs to another Elf to bring to her assigned chambers.

Nadia then lay her down on the soft bed and examined her from head to toe, discerning the extent of the damage. Braerka felt very uncomfortable and exposed; yes she understood it was a necessity that she be almost nude, and yes she had been naked before, but never with onlookers. She liked to keep to herself and never understood the point in intimate pleasure. She preferred to be alone, ' _The 180 year old virgin!'_ she thought, cracking a weak smile. Another 20 years on that would be easy.

Nadia then left her abruptly, "I will be back soon, do not move!" she had called to her leaving the room. Of course she wasn’t going to move, everything was aching!

Braerka lay in silence for a few minutes and then slowly managed to sit up. Then noticed a mirror in the corner of the room; she eased herself up and limped over to it. She considered her reflection, her beautifully placed curves had been the source of many a bad night for her, men couldn't seem to resist. Right now she looked terrible, exhausted; black rings were starting to form under hers eyes and she was dirty covered in muck and blood. Dark bruises lined her ribs, it looked like a few bones were out of place she had never looked so close to her real age. She’d be lucky if an Orc even looked her way now.

She turned and beheld her perfectly toned abdomen; it was marred with blue and purple, ‘ _I'm lucky I don't have a punctured lung!_ ' she thought. She then moved her gaze to her lower leg, the actual bite mark from the offending wolf was all but gone, very feint teeth marks the only indications that it had ever happened. But then why was it causing her so much pain, _'must be infected or something_ ' she assumed. Her attention fell on the small Blue gem around her neck; she had refused to take it off. The Reaver with its recent temperamentality and ineffectiveness was the only reason she was still feeling any of this pain.

Nadia then suddenly returned carrying bandages and salves, accompanied by two other elves, this only made Braerka more uncomfortable, the last thing she wanted was more people looking at her almost naked form. Nadia was more than annoyed that she had moved and ushered her to lie on the bed once again.

Braerka sat unsure and unable to relax. She watched as the other elves helped Nadia put together a concoction; they added herbs to the mixture, valerian roots among them. It was a sleeping draught. Nadia took it and offered it to her, like with Oin's pain draught she eyed it warily. If it tasted anything like that she’d rather endure the pain of consciousness.

"Drink it, it will help. Go on now." Nadia said, encouraging her. Braerka so desperately needed sleep, she could feel it; her eyelids were heavy and she felt like there was an invisible weight holding her down and slowing her every movement. But then again she would rather be awake and aware of what she was happening.

She looked at the healer; she saw in her eyes a growing impatience and that if she didn't drink the remedy soon Nadia wouldn't hesitate in forcing it down her throat. So she drank it, unlike Oin's tonic it had a sickly sweet taste to it, almost as bad if not worse. Seconds later she began to feel light-headed and felt her extremities grow numb. Nadia eased her down into a sleeping position.

"Sleep well." Nadia whispered. Then her eyes closed and all was black.

~\/*\/~

As Braerka slept her mind wandered, jumping to points in her life she hadn't thought about in decades. The first she saw was her first day at the Assassin's stronghold. That day had been uneventful; mostly her trying to run away and being dragged back every time; they had ultimately locked her in a cell as she was becoming so troublesome.

Next she was at her initiation ceremony, she and several others stood and the top of a long hall. Years had passed and she had grown into a young woman, the child she had been was long gone and only a memory at that point. But still she remembered Thorin and his words of wisdom, they guided her every step. They were handed their very first official contracts that day, she remembered it clearly. The scene morphed before her eyes once again.

She stood in an abandoned underground hollow, holding a tiny blue crystal in her hand. It was the day she had discovered the Soul Reaver’s power. That had been an adventure, her assassination target had fled and attempted to hide in the hollow near Fangorn forest but he had failed. She had found him easily, ended his life swiftly but not before he landed a good hit on her. Bleeding out, she wasn’t sure what had urged her to reach for the gem around her neck; it was like a distant voice was calling her. Without it she wouldn’t be here now.

Again the picture morphed, only this time it showed more recent happenings. The unfurling of the events with the Trolls, being chased by Wargs not long after, speaking with the Dwarves and with Bilbo; it all played in her dormant mind.

Then she saw something she did not recognise, not a memory from the past or present but rather a figment of her imagination. A conglomeration of her life events produced by her drug addled mind. She stood in a battlefield, the ground strewn with the dead and stained red with their blood. The battle was raging all around her, she watched as masked warriors met their ends at each other's blades. She felt a sudden wave of panic come over her and then she was running, but from what wasn’t clear.

The scene began to blur and distort as she dashed. The combatants in battle didn't seem to notice her as she sped past them. She suddenly stopped coming to an impassable stone wall, she turned her eyes meeting a raging tunnel of fire, all behind her was gone and only the searing heat and blinding light remained. She tried to run again but her body wouldn't move, she heard an ominous voice call her name through the flames and then all was silent and dim.

~\/*\/~

Startling from the sudden absence of anything, Braerka woke, a light layer of sweat upon her skin. She was breathing heavily and it took her a while to realize where she was. Sitting upright in the bed in her own chamber, she allowed the silky covers to fall off her, revealing the bandages that encased her entire torso. Nadia had done everything while she was sleeping and had done a good job of it; before sitting up would have caused her great agony, would have been an arduous task, but now it was normal, there was no pain. It was as if nothing had ever happened.

_‘No thanks to the Reaver’,_ she thought sourly.

Slipping out of the bed she noticed her ankle was also bandaged and the rest of her was clean. She cringed at the thought of the Elves washing her by hand as slept, but then she hadn't been in a position to refuse it. It felt like that made it all the worse. For how clean she was she felt oddly dirty now.

Standing up she took a moment to gain her balance as she still felt the effects of the sleeping potion working on her, the room spinning around her. Braerka stood still until it stopped. After she walked over to the balcony on the other side of the room, a strong breeze was blowing in, cooling her greatly. She stared out at the horizon, the sun was low in the sky, had she slept all day? Longer?

It was a sudden tumbling of memories of Dwarves, that made her begin to wonder where they were and how they were getting on. The place wasn’t on fire, so that was as good a sign as any. Then her mind once again focused on the dream, she hadn't experienced a dream like that in a long time. It was so vivid and real; chilling, almost like it was a warning. She decided it was merely the past and the now melding together, nothing more.

As Braerka made to go back into the room she heard the door begin to open, not wanting anyone else see her naked-or anywhere close to it- (bandages and underwear hardly counted as clothing) she leapt at the bed and pulled the covers up around herself.

A she-elf entered holding a parcel, Braerka immediately relaxed and stood when she recognised who it was.

"Arwen?!" she exclaim, leaping up just as fast to get to her old friend, taking her in a bear hug. It had been so long since their last meeting, of all the people in Rivendell it had been Arwen she missed most.

"It has been too long Braerka! You still have a talent to getting hurt!" she said with laugh, returning the hug awkwardly, still holding the leather-bound parcel. Braerka had forgotten she was wearing almost nothing but for that moment didn't care. Arwen was one of the few souls on Middle-Earth she trusted.

“Your father said something similar!” Braerka joked back eyeing the parcel in her grasp.

She then allowed her friend to walk into the room before closing the door behind her. Arwen looked at her then handed her the parcel, her expression saying, _I didn't pick it, don't murder me_!

Braerka raised a brow but tore back the wrapping and understood her friends silent plead. It was clothing, which she was thankful for, but the form it took wasn't appealing to her.

"A dress?" she said, looking to Arwen her expression was of friendly amusement, her smile was endearing, but also begging her to just accept it. "You expect me to wear a dress? No, where are my own clothes? My bag?"

"Lindir picked it. As for your own clothes, they were beyond saving, old, tattered, covered in blood, we are currently preparing new ones for you, your bag… I'm not sure honestly. Your weapons are with the Dwarves perhaps they have it. And Braerka you have to wear this until…" Arwen explained, making sure to bring her attention back to the outfit.

Braerka lifted the green dress by the shoulders and examined it shaking her head in revolt. Of course Lindir would do this, his pettiness was top in his repertoire of annoying skills.

"No, Arwen you know me! I have never worn a dress before in my life and I am not about to start!"

The she-elf walked back to door, clearly not meaning to stay long, "Yes I do know you, if you don't want to wear it, I assume you’re comfortable walking around as you are?"

Braerka then suddenly remembered that she wasn't wearing anything in the way of clothes and she subconsciously pulled the material closer to her at the thought of having anyone see her like this.

"That's what I thought!" Arwen said smiling, she turned and left.

Braerka once again considered the dress and unwillingly accepted it. She slipped it on, it fit like a glove; the silky satin like material clung to her frame perfectly. It was long and flowed all the way down to her ankles. She looked at herself in the mirror in the corner of the room and fixed herself. No matter how much she fretted it didn’t feel right, didn’t look like she was looking at herself; she had half a mind to just lay back down and sleep until her new clothes were ready.

She breathed deeply, looking at her reflection, "Here goes nothing I guess!" she told herself before leaving the room to search for her new friends.

~\/*\/~

Wandering the breezy halls, it wasn't long before Braerka happened upon Elrond and Gandalf speaking alone, in quiet and hushed tones. She approached them nervously and cleared her throat to announce herself. They stopped, acknowledging her arrival, and stepped apart from each other, she got the feeling they had just been talking about her.

"My, my you look well Shepherd!" gasped Gandalf, Elrond simply nodded in acceptance grinning at her. She cringed embarrassed by the compliment but nodded nonetheless: she never knew how to reply to things like this, the usual got to was snap at the person but this wasn’t a typical situation for her.

"You _are_ looking well! Since I last saw you anyway…" Elrond began, "the young Dwarf will be pleased to see you are recovering! He has asked about you many times."

She thought for a moment, young dwarf? She thought to herself, he could mean Thorin, but wouldn't he have just said that, and Thorin wasn’t exactly young (not by Dwarf standards, by Elven standards he was very much young). No, definitely not Thorin. She decided it must have been one of the other _young_ dwarves, the first coming to mind being Fíli and of course Kíli; her walking aid. She smirked coming to that conclusion; they both really did seem to care… a lot.

"Well you do clean up well!" said a voice from behind them, they all turned and were greeted by Thorin. He was wearing his usual attire, royal blue tunic bordered with dark leather, minus all the heavy armour. He looked much younger without it too, she concluded. Much like how he was in her memories.

Braerka smirked a little but said nothing. An awkward silence took them for a short moment before Elrond motioned them onwards with the promise of food. She followed closely behind them trying to hide herself, she was conscious that everyone would soon see her, and that questions would no doubt be asked. It was the questions that worried her most. Soon she would have to decide, what to tell and what to keep secret. Glancing at Thorin she could only dream of what telling him who she was would bring and let herself wonder how long she would last if she lied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editing this one was faster than I thought it would be, so y'all get it early because I'll just sit on it for ages otherwise :) Hope you enjoyed it, even though this one was mostly filler. Next one is more fun.
> 
> If you feel like it you could totally follow me on twitter. I'm trying to use it more! So yeah, come shout at me or just say hi, or don't. I'm not in charge of you :P
> 
> https://twitter.com/jojo_rambles
> 
> Next update coming soon, i.e. in the next week


	9. Holding Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Braerka comes to a decision.

After Braerka had been taken to the healers, things got only a little heated for the remainder of the company. Lord Elrond had again begun speaking in elvish, which had led Gloin to take offence at an invite to dinner, but it was quickly sorted. The way to any mans heart, be he a Dwarf, Elf, Man or otherwise, is well known to be through his stomach.

They now sat with bowls of copious amounts of fruits and vegetables before them. Kíli sat around the long table with the other Dwarves and Bilbo. Of them all, strangely enough, it was the Hobbit that looked most at home.

Elven musicians played peaceful melodies in the background, and in response Oin (not the oldest by far, but certainly the deafest) stuffed his hearing aid with a napkin to block the racket. Kíli himself found it rather relaxing, happy to just be able to sit down and take in the peace. It was sudden but he realized, he didn’t really understand his Uncle and Elders dislike of all Elf-Kind; to him the seemed no worse than any one else he’d met. In fact he rather like them.

Dori and Ori sat near him. Ori prodding at a leaf of lettuce screwing up his face in disgust. Dori urging him to try it. In response Ori only turned his nose up more before asking if they had real food. Kíli only laughed and stuffed his face with the sweetest, ripest tomato his tongue had ever had the honour of tasting. He was glad of the food whether it be straight up vegetables or not, it had seemed to be ages since they last sat down to a good meal. His stomach was thankful for it, thought some meat would have been appreciated.

He looked down the table to Bilbo, the hobbit looked amazingly at home amongst the Dwarves and Elves. He was busy recommending that they try anything and everything laid out before them, knowing rightly that Dwarves don't eat many greens. If anyone had told him this Hobbit had only left home a handful of weeks ago he wouldn’t had believed it.

While most of them were happy, the oldest of the group were disappointed to say the least with the so-called ‘food’, Dwalin began rummaging through the bowls in search of some form of meat as if it were hidden from view. They believed this food to be for animals, livestock and pets, not for fully grown, battle-hardened dwarves.

Kíli sat munching on a stick of carrot, thoroughly enjoying the odd sweetness, when he heard talking in a nearby corridor. Elrond, Gandalf and Thorin walked in and were closely followed by young woman in green dress of silk that sparkled in the light of the dying sun. She was short for an Elf.

It took him and the others more than a few seconds to register who she was. Shepard looked so different in a dress; more than a little uncomfortable too. His ass was barely an inch off his seat, when Fíli beat him to it.

"Shepard!" his brother cried out, loudly to be heard above the music, rising to his feet, "You're alive!"

The others looked in her direction hearing Fíli's exclamation. Kíli noticed her cheeks blush under their scrutiny, even attempting to swamp herself in the material of the dress that flow behind her like an ethereal cape; she was clearly embarrassed by all the attention.

"Of course I am, Fíli! Why wouldn't I be?" she questioned him, trying to turn the attention away from her and not succeeding for their eyes were fixated firmly on her.

There was no doubt in Kíli’s mind that his brother had been waiting for such a question, if only to make what would have been a snide comment about the elves. Kíli kicked him hard in the shin, to remind him where he was. "No reason!" he squirmed, through gritted teeth stifling back a weak cry, falling back into his seat sending Kíli a death glare. Shepard smiled in response and then took her seat at Elrond's table.

Kíli sat staring at her in wonderment; she was so beautiful to him right now even if she did look uncomfortable in the attire. He liked to imagine she wished to be in her own clothes and not wrapped in the foreign silky material from the way she was constantly fixing herself and trying to pull the sleeves up closer to her neck. Where were her clothes anyway? He wondered, it didn’t look like she was wearing the revealing outfit willingly.

He was forced to tear his eyes off her every now and then, when he would faintly hear his name mentioned in the conversation at his table. He would input the odd groan or mumbled phrase but his thoughts were still with her.

'The Mysterious Woman' as Fíli had introduced her to him on the night they had run into trouble with the Trolls. She really was a mystery; none of them knew anything about her, except her name, which in itself was slightly unbelievable; who calls their child _'Shepherd'_? And Lindir had called her _THE_ Shepherd, which only raised more questions.

The lack of information about her was daunting in ways especially since she seemed to know things she ought naught to know. He pondered her existence and began to create his own past for her, 'maybe she's a lost princess from a distant land' or 'a goddess trapped in human form'? Kíli even admitted to himself that these ideas where a little farfetched to say they least. She was, from her appearance, just a normal human girl after all.

It was then that she stood up, clearly frustrated with the line of talk, and approached the nearby balcony, the light breeze blowing past her made her look elemental, the light made her look like porcelain so fragile and pale.

In that instance, he had a gut feeling that only he could protect her for some reason, he put it down to the infatuation from which he was currently suffering; never before had he fallen for a girl this quickly before, and never not a Dwarf from back home. And it was usually the girls fawning over him. He only hoped she felt the same. Or was he just getting ahead of himself? It’s not like she was coming with them.

It was his brother's hand swiping in front of his face that then brought him back to the present. His head spun to see Fíli wearing a slightly concerned, yet smug expression.

"Are you ok? You haven't said or eaten much?" he asked. Kíli didn't answer straight away but gave another fleeting glance in 'her' direction.

Fíli easily followed his eyes. "Ha, you think you actually have a chance. I tell you she's already fallen for me, my wit and charm are irresistible! It's just a matter of time before she realises it! I don't think she's even noticed you brother!" he snorted. Kíli felt a childish rage boil up in him, he wasn't sure if his brother really meant it or if he just teasing. It was honestly hard to tell sometimes.

"Ha, you're so full of yourself Fíli! It's me she wants, you'll see!" he sniped back playfully at him. The others at the table laughed.

"Yes we shall! The first of us she kisses wins!" Fíli said offering his hand to make a deal, Kíli shook and it was done.

~\/*\/~

Throughout the whole meal Braerka could feel eyes boring into her. She didn't bother looking but just kept internally screaming at them, _'Just_ _eat_ _and_ _stop_ _staring_ _at_ _me_ _please_!'

Elrond, Gandalf and Thorin sat around the small round table discussing what had happened with the Trolls and Orcs. Her mind phased into and out of the conversation, she had pretty much lived it and didn't think it necessary for her to even listen.

Her mind then suddenly wandered back to her bag and its contents. She was praying that someone hadn't gone through it and found the contract, how would it look. Her mind thankfully supplied her with the obvious; no one had come for her head yet, so for now at least she was fine.

Braerka tried and failed to not dwell on the negatives outcomes; nearly every possibility was the worst case scenario and lead to her brutal death. Although somehow, the worst of them always involved seeing a look of disappointment in Thorin’s eyes that would be worse than take a knife to the heart. She shook the thoughts from her head and then proceeded to try and cover herself up some more; the dress left her feeling exposed, though not as exposed as she had felt with Nadia.

She heard Elrond begin naming the swords they had found in the Troll hoard. Orcrist, the goblin cleaver an elven short sword, and Glamdring, the foe-hammer an Elven long-sword; both crafted during and for the Gondolin wars.

She phased out after that point and finally decided she would eat something. She lifted several cherry tomatoes from a bowl and put them on her place.

Taking one she shoved it into her mouth, as she bit down, the bitter-sweet juices oozed out and sent life buzzing through her tongue. It was the first thing she had eaten since the tavern nearly two whole days ago. Or was it three now? Keeping track was getting harder.

She nibbled at a few more before lifting a small stick of celery and crunching down on it. _'Some pork would go great with this!'_ she thought, sharing in the Dwarves longing for meat. They weren’t exactly subtle about it.

As she chewed she phased back into the conversation.

"What exactly where you doing on the Great East Road?!" she heard Elrond ask.

She stopped all she was doing and looked inquisitively between Thorin and Gandalf. _'Yes! Finally some information on this quest of yours!_ ' she thought with excitement. She sat up straighter prepared to take in their words but none came.

Both Gandalf and Thorin looked at each other awkwardly, silently communicating with their eyes. Then Gandalf finally spoke, "We shall discuss that later, for now let us enjoy this meal."

Disappointed and annoyed at their lack of an answer, Braerka slumped back into her chair, before quickly deciding she wasn’t in the mood to be just sitting around anymore. She stood, walking to the edge of the balcony, her hands stroked the smooth alabaster stone work. She ignored the continuing conversations behind her and looked out at the scenery, sighing deeply. Why couldn't they just say something, anything to hint at what they were doing? She considered it; it had to be something personal and very important for them to not want to mention anything. But what? The only thing Thorin cared about more than his people was… but they couldn’t be going back, right?

Her thoughts were disturbed unexpectedly and she turned on hearing a loud outburst of laughter. She saw the rest of the company laughing wildly as Fíli and Kíli shook hands. They looked like they were getting ready to wrestle each other. _'What on earth_?' she wondered with a smirk, her agitation fading with the breeze.

Moments later Elrond was standing, "Come let us take our leave, I imagine we have much to discuss…" he said, urging Thorin, Gandalf and the others to follow him.

Some of the dwarves having just gotten comfortable groaned loudly as they stood up to follow. Braerka lingered behind before deciding to join them. She followed closely and in silence.

Elrond left off most of the company in a fairly large room and allowed Thorin a few moments with them in privacy. Now they were alone Elrond spoke freely to her and walked a short distance from the door.

"How did you come by them?" he asked her, his voice serious.

"By chance, I was hunting in the woods and they happened to be there. Then I got into a little trouble we all helped each other out. Look, I am - _was-_ merely sating my curiosity!" she answered swiftly. He looked at her with a disbelieving look.

"You got more than you bargained for by the looks it!" he replied, hinting at the bandages not hidden by her attire, "I want to believe you, but if what you say is true then what is the meaning of this?"

He revealed an all too familiar piece of parchment, her worst hopes hand been fulfilled. She looked at him, considering whether to lie or not, but she knew it would be futile he had the gift of foresight and had probably seen it already.

"It means nothing; I have no intention of carrying out the task! I've turned away from all that now!" she breathed heavily and looked pleadingly at him.

He smiled a little before continuing, "You gave it up for him? From what I've read you are the only one who can fulfil this contract and I know the position you've put yourself in because of it."

She sighed and made a move to argue back. He placed his hands reassuringly on her shoulders.

"If this is some attempt at getting that life back please reconsider, think more rationally about what you're doing, you could be putting them all at risk by staying with them!" he finished.

"They'll come looking for him, and me too, eventually. The Orcs are already out for his head. I believe I can protect him!" she argued back.

He saw he wasn't getting through to her; her heart was set on achieving her goal there was no talking her out of it now. So instead he offered her words of wisdom, "I do not condone this but if it is what you believe in?"

"It is."

"Then all I can say is be careful…" he told her handing her the contract but not relinquishing his hold just yet. "If one of them discovers this you will more than likely be removed from their circle of trust or worse. I would hate to see that happen."

She nodded at him, as he finally let her take the wad of paper. Braerka trusted him and knew he only wanted what was best but that wouldn't sway her from the path she’d finally just settled on. It was speaking of her desire to protect and defend that had sparked the idea. The overwhelming surge of feeling in her chest just from thinking about being with the closest thing she has to family again enough to have her chucking rational thinking off the nearest cliff. He hugged her tightly and then started the short walk back towards the room.

She hovered for a few seconds folding the frayed paper up tightly and slipping it in between the fold of cloths and bandages at her hip. Composing herself before joining the Elf Lord eager to ask just one tiny question.

“Their quest… you know what it is don’t you?”

Elrond continues his strolling, not even giving her the honour of a sideways glance. Braerka swears she sees the beginnings of smile on his lips.

“I couldn’t possibly say.” He hums.

Just as she was about to press him, they arrived back and Gandalf, oh so inconveniently exited the room. The door swung wide and the old man waltzed into the corridor, nodded at Elrond and then smiled at Braerka. He was quickly followed by Thorin, Balin and strangely Bilbo; she assumed Gandalf had insisted he tag along.

"Now…" Elrond began, "Shall we see was has upset the balance?"

Together they walked for a while before stopping outside Braerka's room, " I believe this is your stop." Elrond said, all but pushing her into the room. He locked the door behind her.

Braerka shook the handle on the door and tried to pry it open, she had understood Elrond's want of her not getting involved and had acknowledged that he would try anything to stop her, but this was too far, unacceptable. He could have at least just told her to butt out.

After a short while she gave up, sliding down the door. The last thing she wanted to do was cause trouble for the Elves again. She looked up thinking hard, then noticed a small pile of material on the bed.

She darted up and saw clothes, real clothes, not a dress. "Yes!" she exclaimed, beginning to quickly peel the garb off herself ruffling her hair as she did.

She took the contract and slipped it into her _new_ coat pocket, thinking it would be safer kept in there until she got her bag back. She speedily pulled the leggings up her lower half; they were soft to the touch but tough like leather and held a dark navy sheen. She then pulled the muted white tunic on over her head, the sleeves were long and loose but it fit tightly to her core. She laced up the front before slipping her feet into the shiny dark brown leather boots and approaching the mirror. It look good, much batter than the near rags she’d been wearing before. Deciding that was enough clothes, she left the rest; she likely wouldn’t be up much longer anyway.

Still glancing in the mirror (something she didn’t want to make a habit of) she couldn’t help but notice her auburn hair was still a mess but she was in a hurry and didn't take much time to pat it down into its normal place. She pulled it back into a low bun and tied it off, allowing her braids to come into view. She smirked at them dangling and then pulled them back into the bun as well.

Once dressed and stretch more comfortable, she tried the door once again. It still wouldn't budge. She was beginning to consider scaling the cliffside when the clinking of keys sounded from the behind the door. Braerka took a few steps back and it opened. In stepped Arwen.

"You got the clothes I see. Couldn't wait to get out of that dress as well!" she laugh prancing in and noticing the green material in a balled mess on the floor. They stared between each other in awkward silence.

"What are you doing staring at me like that for? Go and catch up before you lose them!"

Braerka was surprised at Arwen's slight rebellion towards her father and swiftly ran out of the room and sprinted right.

"Wrong way!" she heard Arwen shout after her. She spryly doubled back on herself and ran the opposite direction, but not before whispering thanks and rushing on.

~\/*\/~

Braerka power walked for what seemed like ages down long, breezy corridors trying to find them but to no avail wherever they had went it was somewhere unknown to her. There was always some secret place hidden away that was difficult to find, one of the few things Elves and Dwarves had in common. She slowed to a brisk walk, nodding to any Elves she passed, still intent on locating the small group.

"People don't just disappear!" she exclaimed, walking down what might have been the same corridor for what felt like the third time. She moved to cut the corner and unfortunately bumped into Lindir. He looked at her warily, she returned the look.

"Lord Elrond sent me to get you" he said, briefly flashing a key to her. "How did you get out? He said he locked it?"

She knew she couldn't tell on Arwen that's not the kind of friend she was. She decided to be clever.

"I walked out the door silly! How else?" he did laugh at her remark, but it seemed strained, false. He stepped closer to her.

This wasn't in character for him, he was usually itching to get as far away as possible from her, that’s if he wasn’t trying to get her in trouble. They’d been at each other’s throats for as long as she can remember; so she backed off one step to even it out. He sighed at her retreat and gently grabbed her arm; something he hadn’t done in a very long time. It didn’t sit well with her.

"I know we haven't really ever seen eye to eye about most things Braerka…" he began.

"You mean everything!" she corrected, he ignored it and continued.

"…but it doesn't mean we have to be like this…"

She eyed him suspiciously, this is exactly how it had gone the first (and last) time, only last time he had ended up unconscious.

"…we don't have to hate each other…"

"I don't hate you Lindir; I just don't like you very much! Now please, you don't want to keep Elrond waiting, do you?" she interrupted remembering why he had been heading that way in the first place.

Again he sighed but relented letting go of her arm and nodded allowing her to pass. "He is in his study" he told her as she did. The melancholy in his tone would have broken her had she not already had no pity for him. She marched lightly down the corridor considering his odd interaction with her. Could it be that he was trying to be nice again and to forgive what had happened so long ago? Had she just flat out rejected it?

Lindir had at one point actually been very friendly with her but when he had wanted a little more than friendship things had turned sour. His reaction to her denial of them being 'meant to be' had been less than civil. She had never wanted or even thought about settling down or getting married, that kind of life didn't appeal to her. Her proclivity for beheading statues hadn’t helped either. It had been why she decided to leave in the first place.

For a while after that the very mention of him would send anger shooting through her nerves.

But if he had been genuine in their recent exchange she wouldn't say no to a possible truce for the rest of their existence. She couldn't help but wonder what had caused the sudden change of heart.

Braerka slowed as she approached Elrond's study and knocked on the door, when no-one answered she allowed herself in. The Elf Lord stood there pouring over an old scripture and turned to meet her with wary eyes.

"Ah yes do come in, close the door behind you" he called to her, beckoning her to come closer with his free hand.

"I had expected Lindir to escort you…" he started but stopped thinking it pointless to explain further.

He then sat on an elegantly carved chair, its back curved and twisted to fit him perfectly, as he brought his hands together and scrutinised her for a moment.

"You know nothing of their quest? Of what they are trying to accomplish?" he asked her, he looked a little shocked when she shook her head in denial.

"Nothing? Nothing at all?" he asked again

"I asked you earlier because I didn’t know. But I’m certain that it's important to them…" she answered remembering Fíli's words outside the troll-hoard. “I had thought, maybe, it had something to do with… the Lonely Mountain…?”

Elrond face remained unchanged, and then he stood, "I wonder if telling you would make you want to follow them more?" he asked himself turning away.

She stood by the table, waiting for him to continue, and glanced at the pages scattered over the usually clean worktop. She saw maps of Middle-Earth and ancient scriptures. One page in particular caught her eye, a detailed ink drawing of a thriving city that looked all too familiar; she rapidly studied it before looking back to Elrond.

“It is about Erebor? Isn’t it?”

"I don't suppose I should be the one to tell you; I'll leave it to him shall I?" he said, bringing the pages into a neat pile and setting a weight atop them. "Go on, he returned to where I left the others in. I assume he'll be expecting you if he really wants you to join him."

Braerka studied him; he was also acting out of character, what was going on. What it just her or was it just the effect she had on people after spending long amounts of time apart from them? Maybe it was the Dwarves?

Without questioning the Elf-Lord any more she slowly turned and left the room closing the door behind her. She started back towards the room the dwarves had been left in.

On passing she heard quiet whispers and deep mumbles from behind the door.

Reaching out for the handle, she felt it in her grasp and turned it slowly the door creaked open, and instantly all eyes were on her.

She quickly scanned the room for Thorin or Bilbo but they weren't there. Now she was stuck having entered a room with a purpose she didn't really want to say out loud. She searched her mind for an excuse quickly; an old classic coming to mind.

"Sorry, wrong room!" She said quickly receding behind the door.

To her surprise several voices cried for her out as she did. She stopped closing the door and opened it again, this time stepping fully into the room.

"Yes?" She questioned their united beg for her to stay.

There was a long silence, none of them spoke, and then as she turned to leave again a deep, inciting, young voice came into play, it was Kíli, she should have known.

"You could stay for a while?" He suggested, looking somewhat desperate as he said it.

"Aye, you could!" agreed Dwalin who was sitting in the corner. They looked her pleadingly, _'why?_ ' She wondered, _'only one way to find out'_.

"Ok, yes then, but only for a while mind you!" She said, swinging the door shut, on the now private gathering. Time to see how much she could get and just what price it would come at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so repetitve before this edit, the next chapter is even more different from the original (it's practically entirely rewritten!) Any way hope this update satisfied your needs. Next update will likely take a little longer, since I'm changing so much of the base content, but it should be up before Sunday at the latest.
> 
> Please feel free to let me know what you think! I love hearing from you all! Comment and Kudos are like fuel to me!
> 
> Follow me of twitter if you're feeling it; https://twitter.com/jojo_rambles


	10. Asking Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Braerka wants to find out as much as possible about their Quest. Turns out the world has other plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a more fun one, not much in the way of story progression but plenty development with her mindset and (potential) relationships. (I hope). Rewriting this was weird, so much didn't make sense or was just straight up cringe to me! Not sure how much of that changed with this edit though! 
> 
> Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this one. Next chapter the adventure get back on track. Comments as always are appreciated! Love hearing what you all think. Also if there's anything you want to see happen let me know, I might just add it in!

Kíli watched her eyes search the room, there was nowhere for her to sit. Every nook and cranny filled with their own equipment and bodies. She was looking in vain for a place and resigned herself to standing awkwardly by the door. He had just plucked up the courage to suggest she sit beside him, (or on his lap but he wasn’t that brave) when his brother cut in.

"Here my lady, take my seat!" He said, getting up and graciously giving her an over exaggerated bow. Kíli noticed her cringe, _'too much brother!_ ' He smirked.

"Thank you, Fíli, but I'm fine over here!" she said, moving to the small gap between Kíli and the wall.

He stopped breathing as she slipped into the spot beside him. Then when she moved up closer to him he grinned almost wildly at his brother. The look of Fíli's face read, _'round 1 to you!_ '.

Fíli resigned back to his place and stared blankly at the fire pit in the centre of the room. There was then a much longer awkward silence than before. Nobody knew what to talk about, but where did you start when the person in question wasnt' the most forthcoming with information in the first place?

Kíli knew for a fact their heads were full of questions about who she was and other such things. They had been discussing them only moments before she had entered, and now with her here nobody was brave enough to ask her.

She shuffled restlessly beside him. "Well…" She said loudly and in a sarcastic tone, slapping her knees, the resulting clap echoing for moment."…this is fun!"

This provoked a few bereft laughs from the Dwarves before the silence took them again. Kíli too laughed. He could sense her boredom; she fidgeted a few seconds before playing with her hair. Then she looked up to him and smiled, confused and apprehensive. He suddenly realised he had been staring at her the whole time and with a lot of effort pulled his eyes from her. He felt her cringe against his arm. _'I am so stupid sometimes_!' He scolded himself.

_'Speak you fool!'_ He commanded himself, _'SPEAK!_ ' But his tongue refused to cooperate. He wondered if everyone else was in the same boat.

They all sat in silence for another long period, each giving each other confused and awkward glances. Then all of a sudden Fíli burst out laughing, the others looked at him confused and bewildered by his outburst. Kíli was bemused and a little scared, had his brother planned some mischief?

Braerka leaned forward placing her hands on her knees, more gently this time. "What on earth could be so funny?!" She exclaimed.

Fíli attempted to stifle his laughter and managed to say a few words, "All of us! Just sitting here! You clearly want to talk! So talk! And you, Brother! Don't just stare blankly at the floor!"

~\/*\/~

Braerka looked to Kíli's face not fully understanding Fíli's meaning. His cheeks were flushed red with embarrassment as the blood flowed close to his skin.

_'Wow, these two, really aren't being subtle…_ ' said her subconscious, she knew for a fact that Fíli had an interest in her, he had made that very clear outside the troll cave, but Kíli... Now that she thought about it, it wasn’t entirely impossible he was the same.

She glanced between them, spying their fingers dancing in every direction, _'They're signing to each other!'_ She had heard of the secret Dwarf language, Iglishmêk, but had never actually seen it in action, it was discrete and almost unnoticeable at the speed they signed. From the looks they gave each other she deducted that they were arguing over something, ' _typical brothers_ ' she thought.

She looked back to Fíli and sniped back at him for slandering his brother, "If he won’t. Why don't you?" she said. His laughter by now had dimmed and he was speaking normally, he wiped a joyful tear from his eye.

"Because I know I won't have to!" He said, a sly toothy grin beaming at her, nearly blinding.

“Oh really?” her brow raised close to disappearing into her hairline. His grin, somehow, only widened.

"It is well known that women crave attention! The less attention the more..." He trailed off realising what he was going to say would sound uncouth. “You know. You’re already talking to me see?”

This was what she had expected, he wouldn't openly declare his feelings or go running to her and she knew it, he would wait until she came to him; which would never happen. Not if she lived for an Age would that _ever_ happen. He was right about the talking to him though. _'Now_ _to play with his head'_ she thought.

"Well ok then, if that's the way you want it." She sighed relaxing and leaning against Kíli's arm. She felt him become tense at the unexpected cuddle.

Fíli almost spat out in shock, "W-what?!"

"Ok then!" She repeated, Fíli's distress doubled, she had made him think he'd played the game wrong and now he was losing.

After a short while Kíli relaxed, she felt his arm loop around her, _'wow_!' She thought, for the first time in a long time she had butterflies in her stomach. Or did she just feel sick suddenly?

"So, Shepherd..." the younger brother began, rubbing it in Fíli's face,"... if you don't mind me asking, who exactly are you?" The others stopped what they were doing and all ears were directed her way.

"Well I'm Shepherd!" She said, she knew what he was getting at but she couldn't tell them, not now anyway.

"I’m sure there’s more to you than that…" Came a voice from the door.

All went silent and heads turned to see Thorin with Balin and Bilbo, their faces alight with the fire and amusement. Thorin's face was much more serious, he clearly didn't approve of such behaviour.

"I thought I told you all to get some rest?" He spoke, strangely calm in complete contrast to his expression.

"We were, until…" Dwalin spoke up, gesturing towards her with wide eyes. Braerka sent the most awkward smile in Thorin’s direction actively trying (and failing) to a little more space between herself and Kíli; much like earlier he seemed reluctant to let go of her, the arm around her holding on with an iron grip.

Thorin simply stared her out, her smile fading as a feeling of unwelcomeness worked it’s way inside and made itself at home. She could remember that stare, seen him direct it at anyone who’d posed a threat to his people, never had she thought she’d be on the receiving end. Much her own annoyance, she felt like a child again, like he was silently scolding her for daring to sneak extra rations again. Forcing that reminiscence aside she tried to stand, only for Kíli to resolutely hold her in place.

“I should leave you to rest.” She said still fighting against the limpet of a Dwarf clinging to her, he seemed intent on making her stay. Thorin had settled across from her beside Dwalin, Balin not far and Bilbo was practically in the fire holding his hands up to warm himself by the flames.

Of all the people to speak next, little Ori had been the last one she’d expected. Huffing a little, he made sure to look between all his perceived figureheads in the room – and that was just about everyone – before fixating his curious, soft eyes on her. “I was looking forward to hear about you!”

Then suddenly everyone was looking at her. They eyes of 12 overly inquisitive dwarves and one just as curious hobbit. Thorin on the other hand was still glaring daggers. Braerka had intended to use this time to share a little, if she wanted answers the least she could do was answer in return. It was a simply, fool proof way of earning trust. But, if Thorin want this apparent stranger gone she wasn’t going to argue. She’d find another way to protect him.

Resorting to slapping at Kíli hands, to get free, sorely intent to leaving before she was dragged out. She was less than appreciative of Fíli laughing silently at her expense.

“I’m a little curious myself.” Thorin’s low murmur brought her attempts to a standstill. He was still glaring, though it was a fair bit less harsh than it had been moments ago. “I don’t expect you to tell us everything, or for nothing.”

Relaxing into her place and, against her better judgement, Kíli’s warm embrace she couldn’t help but smirk.

“A question for a question?” she offered. He nodded. “Fair enough.”

She unfurled herself from the arm of Kíli with more ease now that he was certain she wasn’t going anywhere. Sitting up on her knees, she let her smirk grow and held Thorin’s gaze. "So what d'ya want to know?" She asked, opening herself up.

There was once more silence in the room. Each dwarf looked at the other, asking who was going to ask first. About to offer words of encouragement Braerka was stopped by a quiet voice in the middle of the room. "What do you do for living?" asked Bilbo.

She had been expecting more depth to the first question, like why she’d been traveling alone or where she’d learned to fight, but she answered none-the-less. Thinking for a split second before answering, she very well couldn’t come out and say she was an Assassin (ex-assassin as of refusing to see through her recent contract), "Well I don't have any one particular field of work! I do pretty much anything I am able to."

"Like what?" He persisted wanting more detail.

"Like smithing and… hunting, anything I can really! It helps with the travelling about the place."

"Not the usual happenings in a woman's life!" Interjected Dwalin, his voice was harsh but his expression showed he was impressed. "You travel. Where do you hail from?" He continued.

Pausing she couldn’t help but glance towards Thorin. How much could she say without making it too obvious? She decided not to worry and spoke as the words came to mind.

"Well where I was born its… it’s long gone. I've spent most of my life in the small town called Windermere. It’s just before the outskirts of Greenwood, but like I said I move about from place to place. I've been all over, Lake town, Bree, Rohan, even Gondor!"

She became withdrawn at the thought of Windermere; it was a thriving town, ruled over by the Assassin's guild in the Silver keep. It was where they’d taken her, trained her; everything to do with the Guild operated from the town and it was the seat of the Master Assassin. She hadn't been there in a very long time and had no intention of getting close to it either under current circumstances.

Some of the dwarves then, chatted amongst themselves but aloud to the group. They marvelled at the fact that she, a woman, had ventured to lands far from her homeland and to add to that alone.

“Your home…” Thorin started, his eyes now transfixed on the flames. “What happened?”

_Fire blazed, bright and crimson in every inch of her vision, the searing heat rising and licking as close as it could get to her skin. She couldn’t help but scream out for help, but no one could hear her over the chaotic inferno raining down from above._

“It was attacked. There was fire and… well you can guess the rest.”

His gaze didn’t falter, firmly fixed on the flames. She would swear she saw his eyes narrow at her insinuation.

“Family?” he posed.

“Gone.”

There was a grim silence, a graveness that only the older generation seem to radiate seeping into the once calm atmosphere. Braerka couldn’t be sorry for the downer she was being; they’d asked she answered. Sighing she prepared to ask her own question, or several considering this was supposed to be a question for a question scenario.

"I have a question for you!" Bombur jumped in, fussily picking at a plate of vegetables he’d brought with him, she was constantly amazed by his endless appetite. "Why are you so skinny?"

"Excuse me?! Why? Do you think I'm too skinny?!" She asked confused by this sudden inquiry. "Yes I do. You're _too_ skinny! Didn't notice before but with that thing on ya, you look like skin and bones!"

She looked down at herself, she didn't think there was anything wrong with her build; in fact she was probably more or less the right size for her small stature. But then Bombur wasn't the slimmest of Dwarfs, she did, in few ways, understand his concern.

"Oh right!" She answered sounding a little downtrodden.

She sat back down on her bottom and stretched her legs out in front of her then pulled them up close to her chest. She felt self-conscious and exposed again, she had never thought of herself as underweight or unhealthy and knew herself not to be by human standards. The thought of herself as even being human was questionable given her age. Still she felt the comments sour sting, even if she knew it was false it was hard not to take it to heart.

"Look what you've done now! Gone and hurt her feelings you have!" exclaimed Dori, appalled at the blatant insult from Bombur.

"It's quite alright Dori I am used to it! Sort of, people don’t usually comment on that."

"What do you mean?" Kíli asked, shuffling forward from behind her. He leaned in close beside her and stared into her eyes she peered back into his.

Braerka gazed into the dark brown, almost jet black pools of his eyes. The emotion she could see was immense, his eyes blazed like the fire, with vehemence, tenacity and conviction. She stared deep into his soul, and felt loyalty, pride and a longing for acceptance. He was strong right down to his very core; his aura was captivating and enticing. For a fraction of a second she thought she might embrace him, but her mind whipped her back to reality. The thought of why this feeling was suddenly plaguing her.

"Well with all the travelling I've met my fair share of men who always seem to want more than what they see. I get the odd comment. But don’t worry if I say no or try to leave, then they’re the ones that end up hurt. In fact a few days before our paths crossed I had to teach a few less than savoury characters a lesson."

A flicker of something even warmer rushed his eyes and Braerka quickly turned away; not likely the implications of such a look. She was starting to think this was all a terrible idea, that putting the distance herself and the lot of them would be the better option, regardless of her intention to watch their backs.

Suddenly there was a loud cracking on the other side of the room. Bombur, who had once sat on the drawers was lying in a heap on the ground, the legs of the table splayed out under his weight. The whole room burst into fits of laughter at his misfortune. Though she found little amusement she laughed a little too, mostly now that the attention wasn’t on her. Bombur had bits of lettuce and other greens all over him, Nori went to his aid. _'Poor Bombur!'_ she thought.

Kíli finished his own outburst rather quickly and then turned back to her, "Seriously! You beat them up?" He said astonished.

"Like hell she does! She couldn't fend off a wolf let alone knock out a man!" Spat Fíli more sarcastic than anything. He looked annoyed at their extreme closeness in that moment.

"And yet I managed to straight up kill a Warg mounted rider, while injured and running for my life!” she quipped at him. “You would be surprised how many taverns I've been kicked out of! And it was a pack of wolves actually!"

Kíli sniggered, and Fíli glowered at him, being the eldest he was obviously used to more attention, and now the tables were turned, all because of a woman. "Is that how it is then? Alright, I propose a test of strength; I challenge you to an arm wrestle!" Fíli stood up and went right over to her. The other dwarves who had lost interest perked up a little at the stir.

Braerka stared blankly at him, unsure of what to make of the brother's sharp tongue and sudden change in mood. But she had never been one to back down from anything and she wasn't going to start.

"Thought you were supposed to be resting up? But if I must… challenge accepted!"

"Go on lass!" Dwalin and several others encouraged, "show him your mettle!" They said. Thorin remained deadly silent as he had been for a while now; his stern expression betraying nothing of his thoughts.

_'How in the world did this happen?!'_ She thought, so much for asking questions and getting what she wanted, she had shoved off all notions of their quest for now. This was getting to be too fun!

Fíli sat beside her, Bifur had placed and small wooden stool between them to brace their elbows. He had elected himself the referee. He said something to her opponent in dwarfish, something she roughly translated as ‘you’re a little brat!’. If only to continue her current streak of giving out as many indirect clues as possible she didn’t bother to pretend he knew otherwise.

"Who’s a brat?!" She asked him. Bifur, for all his rough edges wasn’t as harsh as he appeared; she couldn’t tell by the genuinely surprised look in eyes. Instead of asking for an interpreter or even bother to speak he raised his thumb and pointed accusingly as the young blond who only frowned.

“You know Khuzdul?” he asked, readying himself.

“A little.” It was the truth, the language was vast and complex and the few years she’d spent learning it had be few in relation to her whole life wasn’t enough for her to be considered an expert.

The group around her was now chatting and placing quick bets on who would win, Kíli stood separate behind Bifur, looking slightly concerned but still bemused by the events, he egged her on. Braerka blocked him and everyone else out. For the next few seconds it was just her, Fíli and a memory she couldn’t hold back.

She’d been eleven at the time, desperate to earn Thorin’s favour in more way than just being his adopted daughter. The other kids had mocked her for being weak, for not being strong enough to merit training despite her age. She remembered storming up to him and demanding she be taught. With a smirk on his face Thorin has given her test to prove how strong she was. The test being a simple arm wrestle with him. Braerka had lost, but it spurred her on until months later she almost beat him. A few weeks after that he’d started training her. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was recalling it too.

Braerka focused her eyes to his piercing green blue orbs, and he to hers. It wasn’t anything like staring into Thorin’s piercing blue, but she found the same aura there, the same one she’d found in Kíli’s eyes too. An aura so unexplainable he didn’t even try giving it a name.

Fíli smirked, "No hard feelings if you lose!"

"Oh I won't!" She replied, intent on winning. They interlocked their right hands and prepared themselves. His warm hand pressed tightly against her palm, his fingertips pushed against her knuckles. A subtle pressure ebbing against her, his pulse steady. He smirked more obviously and then everything else drowned out. Sound muted and the edges if her sight blurred. Her focus sharp. Then it began. Bifur yelled in Khuzdul and the battle began.

Fíli was strong, she gave him that but she, having been around for so long, had much more stamina. He pushed against her, she retaliated with equal force, theirs fists suspended in a pressured fray. She waited and waited, he was going to give any time soon, she could feel it, his grip waned and loosened. He could have beaten her if he'd been quicker but in the long run he didn't have the endurance. His hand began to shake and she pushed with twice as much force pounding it to the wooden surface.

Their audience roared, she raised her arms in victory and Fíli buried his head in hands, he'd been beaten by a girl. "I'll never live this down!" He groaned into his hands.

“Don’t worry brother if you ever forget this I’ll be there to remind you!”

Braerka laughed with them. Her gaze immediately captivated by the raw sincerity in the room; the teasing and friendly punches. Thought not all of them were linked by blood, the bond they shared was still that of a family. The emptiness inside her felt all the more palpable to her now.

She looked to Thorin. His sternness had eased greatly since she last looked. His own attention, however, was not on her or the scene but something small in his hands. Small and metallic she couldn’t tell what it was until he pocketed it; a key. Interest piqued she didn’t hear when he announced it was getting late.

Only when he turned to face her did he hear him, "You should be in your own chambers! Please leave… Now!" His tone was serious, close to angered, but why? Not one to dare questioning him when angry, even now under the guise of a stranger she got up quickly, agreeing with him and start to take her leave. One glance at Fíli seeing his pride was somewhat damaged had her doing the unthinkable.

Before leaving she quickly ran up to him, and in a spare the moment action, hugged him tightly, "You're still a winner to me!" she whispered into this ear and then quickly left the room, giving Kíli a quick wink. She would have hugged them all had she had the time but Thorin's patience was wearing thin she could see, evidenced as such when he slammed shut the door behind her.

_'Well that was very informative!_ ' She screamed in her head, once again her attempt to get information on their quest had failed; she hadn't even got to ask a single question! It was her own fault for getting carried away. Braerka stood for a minute wiping her forehead, _'Now what?!_ ' She thought. Thorin would clearly have no intention of bringing her now, he would have said something at least by now if he did.

She started down the corridor back to her chambers; she replayed the night's events in her head. _'Why the hell did I hug Fíli?!'_. She was beating herself up over it; she only did it to reassert his pride not to evoke any deeper feelings, but a dark feeling in the back of her mind told her it might have. He’d hadn’t exactly been subtle about his intentions.

She was regretting it and the look on Kíli's face… it was like a knife to the heart. _'Why am I so worked up over this?! I don't even know him, let alone like him!_ ' She told herself. Information had been the goal, maybe if she had pretended to love then she would have what he wanted… no. Braerka could never had done that, never. The way she felt when Kíli had stared into his eyes, it was unlike anything she'd ever felt. It was stupid, she knew that so she put it down to her mind playing tricks.

~\/*\/~

Soon after she arrive back at her room, the door was still open a crack and cause her to stall her entry. She pushed it open and slowly stepped in. It was still dark and the candles that had once lit the room were out. The wind was blowing the pale curtains, they looked spectral in the moonlight. She noticed a tall figure standing by the balustrade of the balcony. She crept across the room silently, ready to defend herself if necessary. She slowed her breathing and focused her ears to the sounds around her, flowing water of the falls and her own breath were the only things perceptible.

She walked to the marble pillar and slipped around its smooth curve and became relaxed at the figure in front of her. "Arwen? I Thought you would've been doing your own thing by now?" she said surprised that her friend had probably stayed since she left. She dropped her guard and approached her old friend.

Her pale blue silken dress billowed like the curtains in breeze, her long brown wavy hair draped over her shoulders, she was smiling. "But I am!" the elf exclaimed.

"Come out of the wind it's cold tonight!" Braerka beckoned to her.

Now in the protective walls of the room, Braerka lit some new candles and then turned to her.

"I imagine you're not staying long then?" Arwen began, smiling as she said it; Braerka saw a sneaky playfulness behind her smirk.

"What makes you think that?" She asked, anxious to learn the source of her mischievousness.

"This Dwarfish company seems to require you, or so my father says. And you seem quite taken with the Ai' atar!" She answered setting herself down on the bed.

"Excuse me! What do you mean taken with _the_ Dwarf?!" she spat. “I’ll have you know no one is taking me anywhere!”

"You know of whom I speak... he is lucky to have won your affections!" She continued, still smirking. Braerka had no idea to who she was referring; as far as she was concerned no-one had won her affections. But she could have meant Thorin for all she knew, then again wouldn’t she just say so?

"Hmm... I know not of what you speak Arwen; anyway what do you mean they require me? Do you know of their quest?" She asked, matching her friends overly formal tone.

"As a matter of fact I do, they are headed to the Lonely Mountain in an attempt to reclaim Erebor, my father says they will need you before their journeys end."

_'Erebor_?! _But_ _Smaug_...!' Her mind was flustered, how could 14 individuals even hope to reclaim the mountain from a beast that had destroyed 1000's of lives to take it?

Arwen sensed her confusion, "I overheard them in the main hall earlier tonight. Thorin seemed desperate to leave you behind, that you 'give off an aura of familiarity!' and that you were a bad omen; the Gandalf however; was intent on bringing you along."

"I haven’t been told anything thus far!" She snapped, angry that she seemed to be the last to know. Still it was nice to know her own speculation had be correct, there quest now undeniably to do with Erebor. But it was lunacy; no-one in their right might would attempt it. "I don't think I'll be leaving any time soon then." she finally said, falling into the soft covers on the bed.

Arwen sat beside her, looking down to her short friend, "You are not one for doing what you are told..." she began, worried in her fading tenacity, "Do what is right in here..." She said softly pointing to her head, indicating her mind, "and in here!" She finished pointing to where her heart lay.

Braerka loved this about Arwen; she could relax your mind with the simplest of words and leave you feeling strong again. "Thank you... But I really don't think I'll be leaving! With them at least."

"My father has foreseen your path, Braerka; you would be surprised as to where it leads! Until we meet again…" she made sure to make Braerka aware of the chest by the door as she walked out. She then left the room closing the door tight.

Braerka was left stunned and bemused, she flopped back on to the bed staring at the ceiling. _'Fools they'd need several armies to reclaim the mountain if Smaug still lives!_ _Which I'm betting he does!_ ' She cursed.

Turning her attention to the wooden chest she leapt up; it bore elven symbols and seals and smelled of the smith's corner. She speedily opened the lid and revealed a lightweight elven bow and several newly forged daggers and throwing knives among other things. She smirked, as she examined them, finding a short note among the blades.

_'Use_ _these_ _in_ _all_ _your_ _endeavours_ _wherever_ _life_ _may_ _take_ _you_ \- _Arwen'_

This made her smile even more and she even giggled aloud. _'She_ _knows_ _me_ _so_ _well_! I'd _be_ _lost_ _without_ _her_!' "Diola lle!" _'Thank_ _you'_ she whispered.

Still deep in thought she placed the gifts with the rest if her clothes and belongings. Among the items had been an old journal she had left in Rivendell the last she had been there. It was an old and battered looking journal, she opened it, the first few pages were littered with drawings of Dale and Erebor, and full of badly scrawled memories and notes. She had owned this for most of her life and never really used it but had carried it with her anyway. There had been no time or point to it but now seemed like a good time to write down what she was thinking. It mind help her decide.

Braerka flicked to the next blank page and wrote of her dilemma coming to an answer faster than anticipated. She slammed the notebook closed and placed it under her pillow, rolled over and closed her eyes. When morning came she would make her final decision and be all the better for it.


	11. Into the Wild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Braerka makes her decision, and Thorin makes his too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while. Started back to Uni last week and had to get things sorted for it, so between that and work I didn't have much time to focus on writing. 
> 
> I have a few chapters fixed up so I'll be able to update a bit more frequently for a while.
> 
> The adventure starts to get underway from here on out, so I hope you enjoy this update! I appreciate any comments and Kudos that come my way, thanks in adavance for reading.

Dawn came faster that she expected it, her dreamless slumber passed in an instant. Braerka groaned and rolled over, pulling the sheets over her head to block out the offending light. She jumped and tumbled off the bed, still wrapped in a mess of sheets, when an unexpected voice startled her to near full consciousness.

"What on earth are you still doing here?" asked the voice.

Looking up she saw Gandalf, he was bearing over her with a questioning look. It took her several moments to get her bearing and she stood up, wearing the clothes she had fallen asleep in.

When she had been quiet for too long Gandalf pressed her again, clearing his throat with a grumble, "Why are you still here? The others left hours ago!" He told her.

Braerka suddenly remembered where she was and how she had got there. She groaned loudly at the Wizard's persistence. Couldn't he have found a less abrupt way to wake her up?

"Gandalf…" she grumbled still half asleep, but he stopped her with a sudden (light) smack across the head.

"Goodness you're like a child! Hurry and get dressed you can still catch up to them if you move quickly!" He spoke as he tossed the rest of her clothes at her from across the room.

She still wasn't fully awake and groggily began grabbing the clothes to get dressed. All the while Gandalf was marching about her room filling her bag with Lembas bread and ointments he’d snuck from the House of Healing most likely. At one point he left and returned shortly after with a water skin. Seeing she was still groggy he wetted his hand and splashed her face.

She glared at him angrily wiping the damp from her face. “Hey! I haven’t even said if I was going or not!” she snapped.

The Grey Wizard, frowned and shook his head, silently ushering her to hurry up and left.

For reasons she couldn’t yet fathom, Braerka continued to dress herself properly, slipping on the brown leather jerkin over her shirt, and tying her belt comfortably around her waist. She sheathed her daggers, slipped on her jacket. Then tucked her new bow across her shoulder and fastened the blade Thorin had given her around her waist, finishing the double knot to keep it secure. Before she knew it she had lifted the small bag that Gandalf had left, slung it over her shoulder and went to leave the room.

About half way down the corridor she ran back, retrieving the journal from under her pillow which she almost forgot. She flicked through the pages to fight her late night drabbles and frowned at her own tired indecisiveness. Seemed even her tired subconscious couldn’t decide on whether or not to go with them. It’s not like anyone explicitly told her not to, in fact Gandalf was the only one who seemed hellbent on getting her to accompany them. Well, him and Arwen had given her some advice. With so many differing opinions and warnings it was hard to get her mind straight. She slammed the book shut and shoved it in the bag with everything else.

Almost sprinting down the corridors she moved swiftly towards the East of Rivendell. It was still very early and few Elves were awake. She reached the Eastern exit, an unassuming stone arch that led towards rising cliff face. Braerka looked up along the edge; studying the steep slopes into the wilds. She had thought long and hard last night about what she would do, continued to do so as she’d walked the empty halls and still hadn't decided.

Hearing footsteps behind her she turned to see Gandalf and Lord Elrond descending the stairs.

"And where would you be going?" Elrond stood looking mock serious atop the flight of steps.

She thought for a moment, the only reason she was standing there was because Gandalf had woken her so tersely and she hadn't had the mental functioning to refuse. She turned looking to the wilds once more. "Into the wilds I guess" she said plainly bowing her head to him. He sniggered softly and descended the stairs and walked to her side.

Gandalf stood back watching closely, he nodded in reassurance when Elrond took one of her hands in his own. "Good luck" she told her. "Do not look for trouble, it will surely come to you! I hope you are doing the right thing."

"So do I…" she answered, as he let go of her hand.

Peeking behind him, she saw Gandalf had gone on his way back into Rivendell. She then looked back to Elrond, he smiled at her and she once again turned to face the cliff face.

Scanning the pathways, she contemplated what she was about to do. Was it really the right thing to do? Was following them really alright? She sighed moving into a slow walk. Her choice to not kill Thorin was the choice that would secure his death, if anyone found him… it would be worse if she was found with him. She stopped the thoughts before it got too far. Deep down she knew this was something she had to do, whether Thorin wanted her there or not. She’d follow, keep as hidden as circumstance would allow and do all she could to help the from the shadows; just like the Assassin she was trained to be.

She smiled in anticipation of what was to come and began running up the side of the cliff after the Dwarves (and Hobbit). Things were now set in motion for the unfurling events of the future, nothing could be altered, she had made her choice, and the consequences would be hers to bear and hers alone.

~\/*\/~

Elrond stood tall and proud as he watched her run off, a deepening sadness filled his heart, he had foreseen the outcome of her current path, if she did not change something soon it would end in disaster, a great battle would ensue and the earth would turn red with the blood of Man, Elf and Dwarf alike. He trusted her to do what was right and knew that the influences around her would already have altered a few small minor details of her fate. Her choice to let the Dwarf-king live being the first; and probably most severe of them.

As he turned and began up the stairs, a fair-skinned, blond haired she-elf joined him in watching her leave.

"My lady Galadriel!" he said, "Saruman is most displeased at this turn of events! Shall we pursue them?" He said, jokingly.

She simply smiled at him and watched as Braerka became a small speck of shadow on the cliff side before vanishing completely, "Do you believe in what Gandalf has told you? That she is in fact who he says?" She asked.

"I trust Gandalf greatly, if there is a chance she is then we must take it!" He answered.

"And if not?"

"Then it is our mistake and they will undoubtedly perish!" He spat angrily, her lack of faith in the girl, in the Dwarves and in his belief unnerved him.

"Very well!" she resolved, "Did Gandalf warn them?"

"In a way yes, not directly!"

"Then it shall be so, she shall be named, the truth discovered, there is no turning back now!" She finished, starting to walk from him. He moved to follow her but she had eerily vanished into thin air.

Elrond was once again alone, this new prophecy was serious, if it did not come to pass there would be no hope for the years ahead, it all now lay in the hands of an unsuspecting girl with an unnaturally long life.

~\/*\/~

Thorin led his company over the threshold of Rivendell and into the wild plains of Middle-Earth, headed resolutely for the Misty Mountains slopes. They ascended higher and higher up the cliffs, not stopping even for a second, they had to make up for lost time, Durin's day was closing in and as the Moon Runes on his map had said only then, would the secret entrance to the Kingdom be visible.

For several hours they trudged through mud and grass, then over rocks and up sheer cliffs. They grew closer and closer to the mountain's, gaining altitude with each step. They marched in silence over the varied terrain and had much time to think over many things.

Last night had been eventful even by his standards. Discerning the clues on the map, watching his eldest nephew be beaten by a woman in an arm wrestle, and his youngest obviously become love struck and betrayed by the friendly hug his brother had gotten as a result. He laughed into himself at the last bit, to think Kíli had such feelings for this girl he had only just met that he would feel jealously towards his brother. He’d seen it coming, but from Fíli not from Kíli.

His mind wandered and annoyingly stayed on the girl, ' _Shepherd'_ he thought. Obviously not her true name; false like a lot of things about her.

He’d had uneasy and mixed feelings about her since he had set eyes on her. There was something familiar about her and yet she was so mysterious, his heart screamed that he could trust her, but his mind told him not to. Gandalf had tried to encourage him to allow her to tag along in their quest, saying that she might be useful. To Thorin the only thing she seemed useful for was getting hurt and into trouble.

And then she’d answered his question, albeit vaguely. Her home was gone, lost in a fire. Her parents gone too. They way she’d looked into his eyes as she’d answered… it was like she was trying to tell him something else. Like maybe, perhaps she was…

Impossible.

But the thought was there and it was endlessly nagging at him.

Suddenly he was regretting not at least offering her the chance to come, from what he’d seen she could hold herself in battle well. Their quest would have been right up her ally and something an adventurer like her would have enjoyed. But he remained resolute on his decision, it was better to leave her behind. Better to try and forget.

They came to a narrow ledge on the mountain side, a treacherous icy slope to death lay at its edge; this would be dangerous.

"Single file! Stay close to the rock! Move slowly!" He called to the others behind him; he began to shuffle across the thin raised area. The others followed his lead slowly and carefully.

All was going well until the rock at the start began to succumb to their combined weight, Bofur who had elected himself of go last lost his footing as the ice shelf beneath the thin rock fractured and fell away, he fell forward onto the icy slope and began sliding down it with incredible speed.

"Bofur!" yelled Thorin and several others, stretching forth his hand to jump after him, Balin pushed him back.

Determined to save his friend and comrade Thorin tried to push forward again without success. His friend was doomed to a painful death or so he thought. Seconds later and as if out of nowhere a hooded figure ran and leaped from the cliff side and began sliding down the slope after Bofur.

~\/*\/~

It had been hours since she had set out behind the Dwarves, midday’s sun was long gone and it now glared lowly in the sky, the snow and ice glistened harshly blinding her every now and then. She’d still not caught up to them, only seen the odd sign of their passing; a broken branch of a tree, the roughly disturbed dirt on the ground, half-covered steps in the snow. Though she hadn’t seen any for a while now.

_'These guys are moving fast!'_ She thought as she made her way over the rocks and icy patches on the mountains, hoping to catch their coat tails sooner rather than later.

Braerka sat down on a nearby rock to rest, allowing the icy mountain air to cool her warm clammy skin. She had be running practically non-stop since she left Rivendell, she breathed deeply as her body slowly began to recover from the hurried hike. She wondered if she was even going the right way anymore, maybe they had taken a different safer route to the peaks. But she knew Thorin well-enough and discerned that he would take the fastest path to the Misty Mountains regardless of the dangers.

Not wanting to lag behind any more she pulled her hood up and started up her pace again; she continued traversing the mountains slopes. It wasn’t long later when she heard shouting not too far ahead of her. It sounded like trouble; she quickened to an even faster sprint and came to the top of rocky hill. She could just see the company clutching to the cliff face, a narrow ridge their only footing. The loud cracking of splinter rock and ice alerted her to the problem.

"Bofur!" She heard several voices cry. She followed their eyes and the cracking got louder and stopped as the ledge had given way and Bofur was now plummeting down the ice covered cliff side.

Without thinking, and taking no consideration for her own safety, she sprinted and dove off the cliff. She hit the ice with a loud thudding crack, and then positioned herself for optimum speed; darting down the slope she quickly caught up to him. The wind rushed her face and the ice scraped at her clothing, she was breathing fast and shallow breaths, there was little time and now her life (and Bofur's) lay in the balance. Every little action would affect the outcome.

Her speed plateaued but luckily she had reached him, she stretched out her hand to take his but was knocked into the air by a raised rock on the hill. She hit the mountain side hard and rolled a short distance before straightening out.

Now she was in front of him by a fair distance and nearly at the cliff’s edge.

_'Crap!_ '

Doing the only thing she could think of she pulled out a dagger and plunged it into the thick ice. It had the desired effect as she began to slow, but just not enough. The end of the line was getting nearer. Braerka can feel her heart pounding in her chest, this isn't how she was going to die, _'I'm not being bested by gravity'_ she asserted. That didn’t even begin to cover the guilt she was already feeling as the possibility of losing Bofur too.

With her free hand she grabbed for Bofur and missed, she tried again, success! Now with a grip on her target, and seconds before the end of the cliff, she buried the dagger back into the ice. They skidded along the ice as the friction slowed them; the edge came closer and closer. Still they slowed and still not enough, the edge was still approaching and fast.

"COME ON!" She screamed she stabbed the ice again and again and again, each time they slowed more and finally they came to a grinding halt.

Bofur was just hanging over the cliff edge, in complete hysterics and laughing giddily.

Braerka breathed a sigh of relief they were alive. She herself felt euphoric and frenzied and nearly let go of Bofur's hand, before coming to a stable state of mind. She swung him onto the flat of the icy ledge beside her; they both lay there hyped and breathing quickly.

"Let's do that again!" cried Bofur, sitting himself upright.

"Are you mad?!" She all but screamed at him, more than ready to hold him down if she had to.

"Not as mad as you lass!" he countered. She had to agree, leaping after him wasn't the most sensible of rescue plans but it worked, didn't it? Subconsciously she congratulated her efforts.

Looking up to where Thorin and the others were, she saw they were cheering in relief. Their comrade was alive and almost completely safe. They began moving onwards along their path.

"Come on, Bofur! We'll catch up ahead of them, follow me!" She instructed beginning to lead the dizzied Dwarf. His hat was askew and he promptly fixed it, and after a few seconds of deep breathing he was back to himself. Bofur followed her along the path she carved from the icy slopes, it took them a good few hours to get back to level ground; he seemed grateful enough for her help and thanked her many, many times.

They came to a ledge; she inspected it once over and then gave Bofur a boost up. She almost toppled under his weight; he was much heavier than he looked.

"Argh!" She blurted out as he pushed himself up using her shoulders and then head as a foothold. He turned and offered his hand to her she accepted it and he pulled her up.

They walked over a few rocky hills avoiding sharp edges as best they could, Bofur continued to ramble, and thank her, she had just about had enough.

"One thank you was quite enough, Bofur!" She told him for what seemed the thousandth time. But still he persisted. She shook her head and laughed, she would have to tolerate him until they regrouped with the others.

Thankfully it didn't take long; they came around a jagged corner and found the remainder of the company lying in wait for their arrival. They greeted Bofur with open arms; the same could not be said of all the Dwarves for Braerka. Not that she minded. Her only qualm was that she hadn’t intended to be found out so soon but letting someone die to save herself wasn’t something she’d ever consider doing… again.

Thorin gave her the most hostile glare she’d ever seen from him, "What are you doing here?" He asked bluntly, his voice demanding and harsh.

"I saw you were in difficulties and chose to help!" She answered, an air of calm was about her, and her words diffused some of the tension between them. Thorin regarded her with steely eyes before calming slightly.

"Fair enough reason I suppose. I should be glad you turned up when you did, Bofur would be dead had you not…" he continued, walking up to her, "…thank you."

He offered a hand to her, reluctantly she put her own into it, he grasped it tightly and shook once, then let go as quick as he'd offered it.

The elders in his company nodded solemnly at her, commending her efforts, the younger Dwarves were more audacious in their compliments, all except Kíli. He simply stood and acknowledged the situation and made no attempt to involve himself. A little odd, considering his behaviour before. Fíli was just his energetic self, barely containing his clear want to rush over to her.

Thorin had beckoned them to continue on the journey, it would be a long trip to the other side of the Misty Mountains. Kíli was off like a shot to his Uncle's side.

"You too Shepherd!" Thorin called, seeing she was lingering behind. She raised an eyebrow and smiled at Kíli's reaction, which from his elevation looked to be a double take. 

_'Did he not want her join them, was he annoyed after last night's fun?'_ The only other thing she could think, was that he was just as surprised as she was at his sudden change of mind.

She sped up and after a few wide strides and a jump she was walking behind him; Bilbo was at her side.

"Welcome back!" He said, gripping tightly his walking stick.

"Thanks, Bilbo!" she answered, giving him a light pat on the back. She stared at the back of Kíli's head as if doing so would answer the many questions she had.

They walked for a few minutes up sharp inclines and avoided the edges. They didn't want anyone else falling to oblivion.

Her thoughtless silence was interrupted by Fíli's rambunctious entry into her sights, he wrapped his arms around her waist and half lifted her in a hug. "I missed you!" He exclaimed.

“You hardly know me! Let go you oaf!” She uncomfortably scrambled from his embrace. Her suspicions were true, he had taken the hug to be more than it was. She shook her head. She swore she heard Kíli laugh at her rejection of his brother's touch.

"You weren't this put off about my goofiness last night!" Fíli told her. "Or have you forgotten!"

"Forgotten what, Master Fíli?!" She said sharply, knowing rightly what he was getting at but playing with him.

"You hugged me!" He blurted out.

"Fleetingly! To raise your spirit! I had just beaten you in an arm wrestle! Remember!"

His face lit up with realisation, he cleared his throat, "Oh right, so it was just a friendly reassuring hug was it? Nothing more?"

"Yes it was, and nothing more!" She finished. He looked stunned but also a little humiliated, she felt sorry for having put thoughts into his head, but he had to be told. Still, the lingering glint in his eyes told her he wasn’t giving up just yet.

Things were quiet for a few more seconds until he spoke up again, "Are you sure? You're certain there wasn't some deeper feeling or meaning behind it?! That maybe you really do feel something?! You did hold me pretty tight." He asked her hopefully, she burst out laughing.

"God Fíli! Do you ever give up?!" She asked, amused by his persistence.

"Not if I can help it! And definitely not when there’s still a chance at winning!" He quipped. He gave a quick sort of curtsy to her and walked on at a faster pace to his Uncle's side.

The Line of Durin was nothing if not persistent.

~\/*\/~

As the sun crept lower and the light began to fade, they stopped for a break and prepared a quick meal, it consisted of some barely bread and cheese, not much but enough to sustain them for a few hours more. Braerka sat near the cliffs edge, gawking at the view, and nibbling at the Lembas bread Gandalf had left with her. From this altitude she could see for miles. With her stomach full, she pulled out her notebook flicked quickly past her night-time scrawls and began a quick sketch of the landscape. She bit at her lip as she stroked the page with the stick of charcoal. Deep in concentration and trying not to miss a single detail, she was more than startled when Ori began talking.

"You're really good at drawing, Miss!" He said, with an enthusiastic tone from her side. She almost dropped the journal over the edge.

_'He really should announce himself in future!_ ' She thought.

"Thanks Ori" she smiled at him, thinking the conversation was now at an end. But for Ori it wasn't.

"I draw as well, though probably not like you! Would you like to see some?!" he asked, he didn't wait for an answer, he was shoving his own journal into hers hands seconds later showing her image after image, skipping all the hand-written pages. He was quite the journalist it seemed.

For someone who was young (in Dwarf terms) he was quite the skilled artist, his attention to detail and colour was immaculate. "This is one of you! I drew it last night when we were..." He searched for the word, "…interrogating you? Yes, I suppose you could say that, right?"

"Right" She answered, a smile playing on her lips as she looked at it.

Braerka pondered the image. It was definitely of her, though she was not the only one in it, Fíli and Kíli both were included, along with Bofur in the foreground. Ori had made her the main attraction though. It showed her conversing with Bofur, and Fíli sitting on the edge of his seat, Kíli was staring at her, his face blank. She sniggered, Ori really was skilled, he had captured the likeness of each of them and also captured a moment in time, a perfect freeze frame.

"This is _really_ good, Ori, I mean that! Absolutely brilliant! Way better than anything I got in here." She praised him. He tensed up a little, embarrassed but accepting of the remark. She handed him his book and he receded back to his place beside Nori.

The image burned in her retinas. Kíli had shown no outward emotion in the image, but the way Ori had portrayed his eyes showed otherwise. There was a longing, an envy, a sense of attraction and want. She looked up to him, he was chatting to his brother and Bilbo, even now his eyes showed the same passion, though not to the same extent. He seems more relaxed now.

She sighed and slammed the covers of her own book together and buried it deep in her inside bag again, her fingers brushed against the Assassination contract as she did. The parchment itself seemed to hold a dark energy that even she could feel through just a light brush. She still hadn't got rid of it and she didn't want to; it served as a reminder to her that they would be coming sooner or later for Thorin and for her.

Braerka looked to the sky; dark clouds were brewing in the distance and heading their way. "We should keep moving and find a place to stay for the night and soon!" she said aloud to anyone that would listen.

"Those rains clouds look heavy!" Thorin agreed, matching her concern, and again they were of ascending higher and higher into the heart of the Misty Mountains.


	12. Close Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Thunderstorm rolls in and Braerka questions the impact of the journey so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so tired, so please forgive me for any spelling and grammar errors that have slipped the net. I'll check back and fix them when I next update though.
> 
> This is another one that was way too similar to the scene in the film the first time round, so it's been changed up enough to give it it's own identity now :) 
> 
> Comments and Kudos greatly appreciated! 'Til next time.  
> \- Jo

Together, Braerka and the Company made slow progress across the high peaks of the Misty Mountains. Here mind soring fixed on getting out of the horrid storm. The rain clouds, that earlier had been distant and far off, were now dark and ominous, and had moved faster than they had first thought they would.

They rain came fast and heavy, and before they knew it they were being drowned in the heavy downpour. She wore her hood up as far over her face as she could pull it, but it did nothing to combat the biting cold and wet winds that whipped her hair about.

After the darkness of the late hours set in, there search for a place to hole up only intensified. The only light illuminating their path was from the frequent flashes of lightning. They were clung to edge of an almost completely vertical cliff; yet another a long way to fall if they slipped, and after the days earlier happenings it was the last thing they wanted.

They moved with rushed but carefully placed steps along the rock in single file, headed in one direction, forward.

"We must find shelter now!" Thorin stated, trying desperately to yell over the relentless thunder. Braerka couldn't have agreed more she moved forward shuffling with the group before her. She froze suddenly at the loud cracking of rock echoing from the next peak.

_'What on earth?'_ She thought. _'It couldn't have been the lightning could it... Unless...'_

Her train of thought was cut short by Dwalin's troubled yells, "LOOK OUT!" He bellowed, spreading his arms and pushing Bilbo back against the hard jagged rock.

Out of nowhere a boulder the size of a small house came hurtling towards them, it slammed into the mountain face just above them and splintered the rock, Braerka was pulled back by Bofur, just in time to miss an avalanche of rock and debris.

_'Where on earth had that come from?!_ ' She wondered, and then her suspicions were answered.

Balin stood forward as much as he dared to the cliff edge.

"This is no thunderstorm, it's a battle! LOOK!" Braerka would have followed his gaze had she not already be looking. A titanic stone figure broke itself away from the neighbouring peak. Rocks fell from its already crumbling sides as it straightened, joints snapping and roughly becoming manoeuvrable despite its bulkiness.

"The Legends are true! It a bloody Stone Giant!" cried Bofur, struggling to hear or be heard over the screeching towering wreck; his arm still firmly holding her back, his way of trying to repay her earlier actions.

The giant stone being, took what was its equivalent to a pair of hands and, tore a huge chunk off the mountain face, and threw it away past them. It hit another giant stone golem, also awakening from the sharp rock face. The sound of the collision was almost deafening, Braerka brought her hands to her ears. The high-pitched whir emanating from the mythical daemons tore through her ear drums and seared into her head. They spoke to her in tongues, languages she didn't understand.

They whispered in a spectral hissing, images flashed in her head, the Company, Thorin, Bilbo, images of a town ablaze, smoke like a beacon of black reaching for the skies. Then she saw Erebor, the ground before it swarming and wriggling, roars of dark beings filled her hears, screams of innocents then drowned them out. The sharply sound turned to static; she forced her eyes open and uncovered her ears. The ice cold rain stung her eyes, masking the tears that swelled within them. She was acutely aware of a burning heaviness around her neck.

The others seemed oblivious to the screeching and the coldness it brought. Why her? Why show her images of what was to come? She wasn't special, or that important was she? Why did these godlike beings believe she could help at all? What could she do? All she had was a magic crystal that would occasionally fix up her injuries, and an abnormally long life expectancy as a result it most likely.

Her mind darted back and forth trying to make the pieces of the puzzle fit, few would. In the milliseconds of calmness her mind reeled then, she felt faint. She could feel herself falling. She battled her subconscious as it failed to comprehend what was happening but still she toppled forward though as she battled for control. Gravity pulled at her limbs; she felt like lead, she had no control over herself. She let the numbness take her and she fell.

In the dark recesses of her mind a muffled and garbled voice cried out. Then there was another and another, her mind crawled back to the light thinking of the good that could and would be done if she just tried a little harder. She rejected the death her body was suddenly craving and pushed herself back to the present.

Opening her eyes fully she saw that the ledge that had once been in front of her was no-longer intact but was toppling down the side of the cliff. She tried to move her weight backwards but it was no use gravity had a hold of her.

Braerka still felt herself falling, she twisted as she fell and reached for the ledge as time slowly resumed. The ledge was soaked and slippery from the rain, she gripped the edge with both hands, and then let go with one as a sharp pain throbbed through her palm.

She attempted to grip the soaked surface and was clinging to the rock by her fingertips. 

_'I'm not going to give up! Not while I have things to do!_ '

Still feeling like deadweight was the only thing preventing her from pulling herself up. Her tired fingers began to lose what little hold they had; one by one they slipped from the soaked stone. She reached with her other hand after much wrestling with her head and it slipped again the pain in her palm too much.

_'This is it? No! It's not fair!_ ' In that instant she realised how much of a child she really was and how much she truly feared death, she believed she was immortal but was not willing to put it to the test. Braerka battled for a stronger grip and lost, her hand slipped from the rock and she began to fall, this time for real, once again things slowed and she closed her eyes.

Suddenly she felt pressure around her wrist, and an upward force pulling at her. Her eyes darted upwards, her vision blurred by the rain, a figure, cloaked and hooded was above her holding tightly to her wrist, their face shadowed and unidentifiable. The golem's hissing returned for a brief moment before the figure began pulling her back towards the crag.

Full consciousness took hold of her, she gripped tightly with her good hand and allowed herself to be pulled to safer ground, when she was pressed against the damp material of whoever had helped her, she allowed herself to relax, her legs almost buckling under her. The urgency of the situation flooding her mind kept her standing.

She was pulled into a half embrace, that was warm and firm, then the world returned to colour. Her saviour turned quickly to face her, and time all but froze, _'times see to be rather slow today!_ ' She thought mockingly.

Looking into Kíli's eyes she saw they burned with energy every time the lightning flashed. She could see the emotions and the determination behind his glazed pupils. He stared into her eyes and she into his for a brief moment; they seemed to be doing this a lot lately, just staring at each other, and enthralled themselves in one another's presence.

“Now isn’t the time to be falling asleep my lady!” he yelled at her. Braerka could swear she saw the tell-tale signs of a playful smirk.

The moment came and passed in an instant, the ground beneath their feet shook and began to crumble. Braerka, looking down, saw a widening gap form between her feet. She was then pulled backwards, and away from Kíli, away from we're she had felt safe only seconds ago. Turning she saw Fíli gripping tightly onto her coat as he pulled her back to his side to where he thought she would be safe.

He gave her a worried smile which was an abysmal attempt at reassuring himself and her. He looked to his brother as the sections parted and moved in front of her, she saw the fear and disquieted pang of loss spread across his face, "Kíli!" Fíli shouted over the resounding clashes and cracks, reaching out for him. But it was too late, the mountain pulled away and they were now riding on the knees of yet another colossal stone warrior.

Braerka laid herself upright against the rock, she looked her side; Bilbo was there a look of sheer terror on his face. She took his hand to reassure him; he gripped her hand tightly, close to cutting off the circulation. She gripped his just as tightly as they swayed with the movements of the golem. The battle of the ancient colossi raged on, they catapulted rocks at one another and swung heavy and stilted punches.

Their golem moved around and showed them that the others were safely off at the next point of the ledge that had once been their path. They couldn’t do anything or go anyway, simple along for the ride. A huge rocky hand swung past them, barely missing, as one of the other titans attacked. Another golem from behind chucked a mammoth boulder at the one on which they were hitchhiking; on impact it disconnected the head from its body. Braerka felt the stony mass become unstable, it swayed uncontrollably. She felt Bilbo squeeze her hand tighter; she hadn't thought it possible with how numb her hand was already.

She was amazed herself by how calm she was through all of this, though her heart raced, pounding in her chest, her exterior was more than relaxed. The stone giant's body slowly leaned forward beginning to collapse; she grabbed Fíli's hand, ignoring the twinge of pain as she did, and gestured for him and Bilbo to move to the edge. The rock face came closer and closer, their reluctance wasn't aiding their cause.

"We need to jump!" She screamed at them. Without another moment of hesitation she was diving forwards pulling Fíli and Bilbo along with her. The others on the ledge followed suit.

They flew forward through the air, she felt their hands loosen from her grip; she tumbled to the ground and looked up to see the golem's jagged rocky leg heading for their refuge. It hit the rock with an almighty crash. A thundering boom echoed in her head and then all was silent and she felt herself go numb.

~\/*\/~

Thorin watched in horror as his eldest nephew, and heir to his throne, was swept along for the ride upon the mighty leviathan. Of all the beings he could see on the single stretch of rock he was the only one he was truly worried for. He had promised his sister, Dis, that he would bring them back alive, she was the last person he wanted to disappoint; she had lost so much already, losing a son would not bode well.

The legendary stone warrior took several wide strides across the terrain and halted when its head was knocked off. Thorin edged along the mountain side, trying to keep up with it. The rain and wind whipped his face, it stung but he didn't care. He began to shake his head, the creatures dying body began to sway helplessly; he knew what was coming next.

"No!" He whispered, "No! No! NO!" His voice reigned louder and louder until it was muted by the thunderous crack of rock on rock. From behind him he heard screaming and yelling, the remainder were calling out to their lost friends, all but one.

Kíli, Thorin noticed, stood motionless and silent, his expression blank but his eyes were close to bursting at the seams. He was trying not to cry. He stared blankly as the stone column that was once the golem's leg fell backwards, the abolished ledge disjointing from the main body and falling, the creature soon followed, it tumbled and creaked collapsing into the dark abyss below.

A million possibilities of what he might find around the corner shot through Thorin's mind like a flash of lightning. As a leader he prepared for the worst, but there was a small glimmer of hope in him that thought maybe, just maybe, they were alive.

Carefully, and swiftly, he moved along the rest of the ledge. Breathing deeply as he did. He came to the corner and was reluctant to carry on, but he pushed himself around and was relieved at what he saw. All of them, luckily, had survived. He cracked a weak smile and sighed releasing a breath he hadn't known he was holding.

"They're alright!" he told himself. Looking at group of slightly confused and dazed Dwarves was more comforting to him than he had thought it would be. He stepped forward pulling his nephew to his feet, for a moment ever so brief he felt like pulling him into an embrace, Fíli, his eldest nephew was alive. He thought the better of it, now was not the time, who knew was danger lay lurking. In a rush to find refuge for the night he carried on and helped Dwalin to his feet.

~\/*\/~

Dazed and confused, Braerka slowly found her way onto her feet. She tried to stand straight and then collapsed in a heap; her mind reeled with dizziness, her body felt weightless. Her head been aching, but now her rear-end hurt even more. She’d botched her landing, striking the ground ass first and now she was paying for it. Looking up she was relieved to see the others had survived and were all in one piece.

"Thank you!" She gasped to the heavens, relieved that they had made it. _'Thorin! Kíli!_ '

Again Braerka attempted to stand, her legs numbed by the euphoria, and again she fell. She lifted her head to see Thorin, was he smiling? From where she was it looked like it but she couldn't tell clearly he was just a blur in the heavy shower of rain that still showed no signs of letting up.

Thorin moved forward and help up Fíli and then moved to help the others, avoiding her altogether.

_‘Of course.’_ Then she thought she would never understand the reason he seemed to dislike her; it wasn’t as if her character hadn't changed that much had it?

She saw Kíli squeeze past him carefully and stand bewildered and amazed. She had assumed he was concerned for his brother, but his eyes lingered on him for mere seconds, ensuring he was alive and well, before resting on her. His eyes filled with what she could only assume was relief. 

_'He couldn't really care that much already! Could he?_ ' She wondered, for her it was strange to have anyone look at her that way and actually appear to mean it.

The private moment was disrupted by worried calls.

"Bilbo?! Where's Bilbo?! Where's the hobbit?!" questioned Bofur. In a quick outburst of panic, everyone swept their eyes over the vicinity, that's when she caught a glimpse of a hand gripping to the edge of the cliff. Braerka could've sworn he was among them seconds ago but apparently not.

"There!" Nori yelled, pointing, "Over the edge!" Bofur and Ori who were closest to him, immediately lay themselves down and reached for him, the rest of them watched with anticipation.

She felt her own heart jump when he slipped from the ledge and out of view. She jolted forward and peered over the edge, he was still hanging by the tips of his fingers. She knew how wet the rock was, if they didn't grab him soon he was a goner. They managed to get a hold of him milliseconds before he fell again, they attempted to pull him up, but their hands were wet and he was slipping.

Suddenly and to her surprise Thorin sped past her swung down over the edge and pushed the hobbit up. He was risking his life for the hobbit, it was not common among dwarves, and especially for someone as stubborn as Thorin, to go risking their life for someone who wasn't blood related or of his own kinsfolk.

He passed Bilbo up to Bofur who pulled him to safety, and then he himself lost his grip, and was dangling by one hand wavering on the edge

Acting on instinct, Braerka dived to the ground and stretched herself over the ledge and caught his hand just as it gave way. She let out a cry as his heavy bulk pulled on her shoulder joint; she wasn't as strong as she thought she was. With pure grit and determination she forced back the ache and using her other hand pulled him up, Dwalin helped her seeing she was struggling with his weight.

She fell back into someone, clutching her arm, it was deathly sore now with the combined injury on her hand and shoulder. Thorin grunted as he regained his composure, he simply nodded in acknowledgement. Deep down, in the entangled mess she called her emotions, a weak flutter of acceptance brewed, but something told her he didn't care much for what she had done. Or a the very least was making sure it appeared that way.

"We almost lost our burglar!" exclaimed Dwalin, trying to lighten the mood by laughing. Thorin looked grave and less than impressed by him.

"He's been lost since he left home!" He bellowed angrily, making sure Bilbo could hear him. The feeling in her stomach waned and died, if Bilbo wasn't to be accepted she didn't want to be either, regardless of their history. They were both outsiders here. Bilbo's faced looked shaken and hurt, a combination of being soak, cold and from following a close brush with death yet again. He looked to be agreeing with Thorin. Like he knew was he was hearing was true, he would rather be at home, but he wasn't and was making do as best he could.

The rest of the company stood with solitary expressions, like they wanted to stand up for him. What Thorin had said was uncalled for, but he was their future king and they dared not contradict him.

"Dwalin, with me!" Thorin said ducking into a convenient nearby cave. Dwalin rushed to follow. Braerka heard their voices echo from within, it was ghostly; Thorin's unnerving calmness was strange, even she had been terrified and in a way still was. How could he be so heartless as to feel nothing?

Braerka suddenly felt arms wrap around her and was slowly edged into the cave, they were gentle and careful hands, whoever it was they knew she was hurting. She tried to turn her head to see but couldn't move her arm was aching and the pain was snaking its way up into her neck. ' _Really need to get checked out'_ she thought.

As though he had read her mind Oin approached her. "Let get take a look at you lassie…again" He said, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

She complied gratefully; it was becoming too much of a habit being looked at by apothecary's, one she was planning to change. When they all slept she’d use the Reaver, it would (hopefully) take the edge off, and deal with the worst. She cringed when he tried to move her arm. "I think you’ve dislocated it, you should be fine in a short while, I’ll have to set it." he stated bluntly. Oin stood and without so much as a warning he took her arm and with a loud popping crack he relocated the joint. Braerka grimaced and help back a welp, as Oin simply dusted off him his palms and walked away to help the others move into the newly found safe cave.

It took her a second, to feeling through the pain, but she soon realised the someone who had walked her in was still holding to her. She couldn't see his face from the angle she was at, but she imagined an expression of pure bliss for whoever it was. Likely Kíli if she had to guess. The hands around her waist moved, closing tighter around her. She made no move to stop them.

"You know you have a real talent for hurting yourself!" Kíli whispered into her ear, humour creeping into his deep, dulcet tones. She couldn't help but snigger, of course it was him.

This was their first real contact since Rivendell, since she had hugged Fíli. Why all of a sudden was he trying to be so friendly?

She let him stay there for a while, enjoying the closeness of the moment hoping she would become comfortable with the position but it wasn't happening, she gently touched his hand, indicating to him that he should let go, but he didn't.

"Kíli..." She whispered and that got his attention; he slowly removed both his arms and took a step back. She turned slowly to face him. She was right, his face was exuding bliss; she scoffed.

There was an awkward silence between them; the quiet mumblings and clattering of the company and the harsh drum of the rain on the rock outside were louder for the silence.

After a long quiet she finally spoke, "Thank you" she said.

He looked confused, as if he didn't know what she was talking about.

"For pulling me back, out there…" she explained, his face became slightly blushed.

"Well... I couldn't just let you fall, could I?" He replied, his speech was quick and sharp, he wasn't really asking.

Wanting to know more she asked, "Could you?"

He clearly hadn't expected this, he looked a little shocked and unprepared; he searched the cave for an answer, looking everywhere but at her.

After a short moment of mulling over the thoughts in his head, he finally said, "No I couldn't have"

She tried to push deeper, looking for more, "Why?"

This was either something he didn't want to answer or didn't know how to answer as he changed the subject. He took her hand gently in his. His eyes widen and he grabbed her hand harder yanking the glove off her.

"You're bleeding!" He mock gasped, casting aside the glove and cupping her injured hand in his own. She had forgotten about all about that, but since he brought her attention back to it the stinging sensation came pouring back quickly and it wasn't letting up.

"Hold on a sec" he said, leaving her.

She watched him walk over to Oin and ask for something. She watched the others begin to layout their bedrolls, the one thing she didn't have. Kíli came back with a small phial of a clear liquid and some bandages. _'Humph!'_ She thought impressed, _'taking matters into his own hands!'_

He unstoppered the bottle and took her hand in his, he poured the contents on her wound, it was clear like water but had the consistency of bile, the sensation it brought was not very nice. He softly massaged it into her palm and became all the more careful when she hissed in pain.

Braerka stood calmly as his hands, calloused from a short life time of training among others things, caressed her palm as softly as they could making sure it was all rubbed in, and then he took a bandage and began to bind her hand in the cloth.

She watched his eyes the whole time he never looked up to her, he only kept them completely focused on what he was doing. She wondered what he was thinking, what crazy things were going on in his mind. He had come across as a boisterous young dwarf with little want for much more than fun and adventure, but now she wasn't so sure that's was all there was to him. He was as much a mystery as she was, if not more, she felt the need to know more about him.

He swiftly tied a quick knot to fasten the wrappings and looked up smiling, "There you go, good as new... Well... almost!" He was funny, even when he didn't mean to be.

"Thank you... Kíli" she said, examining his aid skills, it wasn't the cleanest bind she'd ever seen but was it was better than not having any at all. Then once again found themselves with nothing to say, but their silence was soon broken when Fíli decided to join them.

"Well, well, what's going on here?" He said mockingly, striding over head held high, he really was full of himself. She saw Kíli was about to explain himself, but she thought it would be more believable from her, so she cut in before he began.

"Kili was just...", She paused searching for the simplest words, "…patching me up" she finally finished, raising her hand to how him the fresh bandages, "See!"

Fíli smiled, not as strongly as usual, clear exhaustion in bloodshot whites of his eyes. The brothers exchanged tired glances. Kíli, was looking awkwardly between them now, and Fíli could sense it. It was obvious that they were closer than average siblings; Braerka wouldn’t be surprised if they knew when the other was acting up or even lying. It struck her that this might be one of those moments but then Kíli carried on as if things were entirely normal.

"Yes, Shepherd cut her hand on the rocks out there, I wanted to ensure it didn’t get infected." he explained, Fíli seemed satisfied and to both of their surprise left it at that.

All talk stopped when Thorin raised his voice to talk to them all.

"Try and get some rest, we move at first light!", Balin stepped forward to him, confusion on his features.

"I thought we were going to wait until Gandalf joined us…?" he whispered.

Thorin looked indifferent, "We have little time as it is, we keep moving and wait for nothing!" he told him dryly.

Braerka then finally decided that she didn't like this Thorin; he was too serious, too cold, untrusting. Life had been unkind to him in the decades since she’d last seen him. It had taken its toll on him, loss after loss. He was... emotionless to a point, nothing seemed to affect him. He didn't seem to care what others thought. All that seemed to matter to him was this quest. She supposed she could understand but still she was concluding that something of the old his was entirely lost.

"Bofur... Take the first watch!" He finally finished, turning away from them all.

Braerka noted the distaste at the orders in Bofur's expression, "No, I'll do it." she interjected, Bofur looked like he needed the rest, especially after several close calls, and she felt far too hyper to be able to sleep. It would work out nicely for everyone… if Thorin accepted.

Her former guardian looked at her, bemused, before speaking; there was a subtle mocking undertone to his words, "Alright then, you take watch!" Then, once again, he turned his back and walked to his own bedroll.

She had anticipated an argument against her in her current state, but Thorin really didn't seem to care, was it because he'd almost died? Because a woman had helped him?

She turned to take a seat on a conveniently slope in the rock by the cave entrance. She glanced towards Kíli who was speedily placing his bedroll near the entryway, Fíli doing the same beside him. She had begun to notice the two brothers were inseparable, always together.

Those moments when Kíli had lived in the firm belief Fíli and the others goners, must have been like eternal torment; he must have felt like dying himself. It was also the only time she'd seen them apart since they'd met, truly apart. It didn't look like they were splitting up again anytime soon.

With a quiet smile, she adjust her seat and faced the entrance. Outside it was still lashing, the rain came down in sheets and the wind was rushing past and clawing at the mouth of the cave. She was thankful to have shelter over her head, even if she was still soaked to the bone. There was quiet whispering from the others behind her as they settled down for the night. Though she wished she was joining them in their slumber, she knew she had to do this, she had volunteered after all.

~\/*\/~

A few quiet hours passed, by now everyone was sleeping. Braerka had taken to writing in her journal (which was a little soggy around the edges) and allowing herself to slip into deep thought. She considered her position, her place in all this, her developing relationship with the young brothers; it was becoming all too familiar for her. If she wasn’t so set on denying it she would accept the possibility of either of them wanting something more. But given the circumstances it felt more akin to a game, one that she didn’t know the rules to.

The possibility of 'something more' scared her a little, even the simple act of comradery seem too farfetched. As an assassin she’d been taught to be self-reliant, self-sufficient. Her skills suggested she didn’t need anyone else, and if the recent events were anything to reference, people were seeming to be more of a hassle than anything. Braerka had been injured more times in the last few days that she’d been in the last 10 years, yet somehow those few tiresome days had been more rewarding than that decade and the only difference was companionship.

Being ageless as she seemed to be, she had made sure to not get attached to anyone in the long term; the pain of watching having to watch them wither and die as she stayed the same had become something that she would do anything to avoid.

She shook her head, disagreeing with all of it. It wasn't possible, it couldn't be. She knew that the boys at least had shown an interest but she wasn't sure about what she was feeling for them. It couldn't be what she thought it was, there was no way.

In that moment something clicked in her head. Kíli avoiding her after the event in Rivendell wasn't hate or distrust, it was, fear and uncertainty… jealousy?. He’d witnessed her willingly embrace his brother and feared that his feelings wouldn't be returned, so decided to suppress them. She buried her head in her hands cringing at the thought of someone acting that way over her; she really didn't know what she was feeling and she believed nothing good could come of it.

She took another glance at Kíli, he and his brother, the whole company, were now peacefully asleep; crammed in closely to one another taking up the small space. She stared at him, though she knew deep down, beneath all the walls and barriers she'd built, that she really didn’t not like him. She couldn't allow herself to ever accept, it was too scary, too unknown. Too superficial.

Braerka leaned back against the wall of the cave keeping watch as she waited for dawn to come, trying her hardest to block out everything and to keep her mind blank. The longer she sat in the silence, the harder the simple task became.

**Author's Note:**

> This was orginally posted to my account on FanFic.net and first published in 2013. I'm migrating it here since I plan to use this platform from now on, and I want all my fics on one site.
> 
> This version is edited, mostly to weed out as much of the annoying SPG errors, but still follows the same basic plotline (with some alterations later on).
> 
> If you wish to read the original you can do so here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9269037/1/A-Place-to-Belong


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